The Kid Feeds Fish

The Kid's still obsessed with feeding the fish. You'd think the death of all the fish in the big tank would have deterred her, but no. And she's got a long memory.
About a year ago, one of the goldfish succumbed to the ravages of my shitty tank cleaning policies (how my fish manage to generally live so long, I chalk up to wicked levels of bacteria naturally present in New West's water supply, there's no other explanation).
This morning:
The Kid: Mom, can I feed the fish?
Me: No, I already fed them.
The Kid: Can I feed them again?
Me: No. You know you can't feed them twice.
The Kid: Why? Cause they'll die?
Me: That's right.
The Kid: What about the other fish? Can I feed the black and orange fish?
Me: What? ?!? I don't get it. (We don't have a black and orange fish, haven't for a year.) Um, no.
The Kid: Why not, cause we can't get it back from the toilet?
Me: Memory comes back to me. Yeah. That's right. Once they're down the toilet, they're kinda gone for good.
The Kid: What about the toilet?
Me: No. We do not feed the toilet fish food.