The Golden Sardine

When Mikey, a third-grader, woke up, he dragged himself and the pajamas he was wearing to the kitchen and yawned. His older brother had already been long awake. Judging by the sound coming out of his room, he was practicing his violin. Little Mikey held his head and plugged his ears with his fingers, wishing he could go back to bed.

“Hurry up. Eat your sardines, or you’ll be late for school,” said his mother on her way past his door.

Mikey turned up his nose at the can of fish. “Sardines? Oh... I’d rather eat anything else!”

Suddenly, something moved inside the can. An uneaten golden sardine had just winked at him! Mikey could almost hear a whisper. “As you wish!” a fishy female voice said.

Canned sausages appeared out of the blue, on the table in front of him, along with peas, corn, tangerine jam, honey and butter, but all in tiny little cans. Mikey looked at the pile of food in disbelief, then turned his eyes back to the fish tin, thinking to himself that he was surely dreaming.

But it was no dream. The golden sardine in front of him spoke again. “I used to be a golden fish. Now I’m just a golden canned sardine, but I can still grant you a wish or two if you don’t eat me!”

“I definitely won’t eat you,” said Mikey quickly. “I hate sardines for breakfast.”

“Very well,” said the sardine. “Then let me grant you three wishes. Wait, sorry, it’s just two now. You used the first one on your breakfast. Also, since I’m preserved in this fish can, it must be wishes that have something to do with food preservation – I can give you anything you want as long as it’s…