This weekend as Americans celebrate the “birthday” of the United States of America with flags, BBQs, fireworks and picnics, I am reminded of a story about my daughter’s eighth birthday where we commemorated the Fourth of July and her birthday with a fish fight.   

I’m known around our circles as the “Martha Stewart” of entertaining.  Even my children’s birthday parties were becoming more elaborate as the children got older.  Lissa’s 8^th birthday was no exception.  I wanted it to be magical and memorable.  It was memorable alright.  It was a birthday party that any kid that attended would always remember.   

I had been planning her birthday bash for weeks.  That year, my daughter had a love for dolphins and wanted to be a marine biologist when she grew up.  I planned a red, white and blue nautical theme for her birthday.  I covered our wood patio table with bags and bags of white sand and seashells and starfish. The centerpiece for the table was a fish bowl lined with red and blue crystal marbles and radiant live fish.

I had picked out three gorgeous fish for the center bowl; a red, a white and a blue fantailed Betta.  They were the main attraction for all the boys and girls.  The fish kept the rambunctious, highly energized eight year olds from running around wild from being pumped full of adrenaline with party excitement.

At cake time, my daughter and her friends were so thrilled to be able to make sand paintings on the table and to watch the beautiful long tailed fish swimming in the bowl in the center of the table.  
Everything was perfect. 

Pam, the party planner extraordinaire had every detail covered, with one small exception; Bettas are called Siamese fighting fish for a reason.  Who knew?  I had no idea that a dominant male Betta would fight to death to protect his territory and that Bettas should not be placed together in a small environment. 

Yep, you guessed it.

Within a short while the blue Betta puffed up his brilliant colors and began chasing and attacking the red Betta! At first they acted like two cats chasing each other and nipping at each other’s tails.  But soon it became apparent that this was aggression, not playfulness.

Then the white Betta decided to flex his muscles and he too got in on the action.  He flared up his brilliant iridescent fins to make himself look bigger and more menacing.  He began attacking the blue Betta.  It was a fin flaring contest, albeit red, white and blue, accompanied by fireworks and tail nipping.  Who knew Bettas were little Piranhas.   When I look back at the whole incident, I marvel at the interesting phenomenon of the way Bettas puff out in aggression.  But not that day.

At first the kids thought they were cute, and just innocent fish rough housing, until pieces of the red Bettas fluffy fins started falling off and floating to the bottom of the bowl. 

Lissa screeched and screamed, “Mom, they’re eating each other!” 

“No, honey, they’re just playing,” I said staring at the bowl.   But it did appear that they were attacking each other and the blue one was indeed nibbling on the red ones long, but tasting looking fins.

The three fish were putting on quite a show with all the chasing and biting of their fins and heads.

The bowl soon became a plethora of torn fish pieces.  Red, white and blue fins, tails and scales floated in the milky water.  Unknown to me and the kids, the “males” were trying to figure out their “pecking” order.   

The kids were screaming as I ran around looking for anything that would work as a net.   I couldn’t find a net.  There was no way I was sticking my hand in the bowl to separate the aggressive Bettas.  I pictured my fingers going in to grab the fish and being nipped until I pulled out only my finger bone.

A wounded fish floated to the bottom of the bowl while a group of little girls watched on in tears.  WARNING: Do not watch this show with young kids!  

The boys watched with fascination as the fish fought.  Some even pulled their chairs closer to the action.  Great.   Nothing like a patio full of little munchkins in a frenzied motion yelling and screaming at a bowl full of fighting Siamese fish.  This party had plenty of liveliness with the wrong distractions and excitement.

In a freakish Frankensteinian fashion, I had created a monster of a mess.  A memorable birthday party for sure.  I felt like Hannibal Lecter’s fish hating cousin.    

Staying in the party master of ceremonies mode, I finally scooped the fish out of the bowl and separated them into plastic cups.  I salvaged the party with silly tactics like, “look the fish are smiling now” and “look their wagging their tails, so they’re happy again.”  Their tails resembled a tattered fringed flag. 

Separated at last the fish and the kids both settled down.  The kids were not so traumatized that they would not eat cake.  Needless to say I had to forgo the game, “pin the tail on the fish.”  And my “catch of the day” treats of fish shaped gummies threaded on a pretzel fishing poles, did not make it out of the kitchen. 

I heard later on that the kids talked about it for many weeks after.  “Mommy can I have a fish attack birthday party like Lissa had?” 

As I tucked my daughter into bed that night, I made a mental note to cancel the pot belly pig party for my son.  

How have you celebrated your kids birthday parties?   What do you have planned for the fourth?  Do you have any crazy “pet” stories?