Fishing Conversations

Were you aware that Monday evening fishing trips spark interesting conversations?

No?

They do. Believe me, they do.

They spark conversation and perhaps a few monologues from those trying to bait their own hooks and the worms won't cooperate.

You might not have realized that you can complain and fuss all you want at the wiggling critters, but they won't respond, making it a very one-sided conversation.

I intensely dislike worms.

Me: *kicking off ancient flip flops that are about to fall off my feet anyway and walking on dock barefoot*

Wesley: *digging into tackle box* "Erin! Watch out for the hook!"

Me: "What hook? I don't see a hook."

Wesley: "It's there! Move! You're going to step on it!"

Me: *clumsily gracefully stepping around bait and tackle* "I still don't see it. Where is it?"

Wesley: "In your foot."

Okay, so that last part didn't actually happen, but I have a feeling he wouldn't have been averse to that outcome--just so we could have had one of those 'I told you so' moments.

What is it that people love so much about 'I told you so' moments? It wasn't like I was being careless or anything. Huffs.

Me: "Um, Dad? Those bait stealers got my worm again."

Dad: *baiting a little sibling's hook* "Okay, well, grab a worm."

Me: *quickly devises clever method of action* "Oh! Could you half that worm with me?"

Dad: "Sure." *rips worm in half*

Me: *holds out hook*

Dad: *ignores hook and holds out dripping, wriggling half of worm* "Here. Take it and bait it." *drops worm in container when Erin doesn't respond and walks off on his merry way*

Me: *stares at worm* *worm stares back*

Okay, not sure about the worm staring back. I couldn't locate his eyes.

"John, if you hook me in the ear, I'm going to be upset."

"Wesley, if you hook me in the ear, I'm going to be upset."

"Ellie, if you hook me in the ear, I'm going to be upset."

"Zander, if you hook me in the ear, I'm going to be--aww, baby, sure I'll help you cast. Hand me your pole."

The baby of the family and all that. You understand.

Me: *summoning courage and reaching into container*

Worm: *evades fingers and burrows deeper into soil*

Me: "You aren't being very considerate. Come...here...I want to catch a fish."

Worm: *squirts white goop all over my arm*

Me: *emits sound that can be heard from the next county*

I intensely dislike worms.

Elisabeth: "You know how your foot feels when it falls asleep? Like, a bunch of pins poking into your foot? Well, that's what these minnows feel like nibbling at my feet."

Ellie: "They look cute, but they're probably saying, "Kill, kill, kill!"

Elisabeth: "Ouch! They're starting to hurt!"

Me: "Kick your feet and they'll swim away."

Elisabeth: *shocked expression* "No! That will scare them."

Me: *shrugs and proceeds to try and catch one in a cup*

Elisabeth: "Erin! Look, now they won't come back. You destroyed their trust!"

Me: "Um, and the fact that they were trying to eat your foot is...completely beside the point?"

Elisabeth: "Aw, look, the little minnows came back and are nibbling on my feet again. Aren't they cute?"

Me: "They're going to eat your feet off."

Elisabeth: "Aw, no, they won't. .........Hey, where did my left foot go?"

Me: "I told you so."

Whether or not that last part happened is up to your discretion. And whether or not I'm not above an 'I told you so' moment is up to your discretion as well.

Because I like leaving these sorts of things to my readers.

One of my big catches of the evening---a killer minnow in a plastic Mickey D cup. Guaranteed to feed a family of eight with enough left over for the cat. Someone get me the scales...we need to weigh this whopper!

Keepin' it real,
~Erin