The kids were out of school yesterday and being that it was a picture perfect North Carolina day, Ang and I took them fishing at the local lake. We packed a picnic lunch, got some blankets to lay on and looked forward to a day out in some fresh air.
On the way I told both boys that the first one to put their foot in the lake was going to have to sit out for an hour and watch the other ones fish because we can't seem to go to the lake without somebody trying to walk on water or swear they saw a fish and were trying to impale it on their toenail or some other cockamamie excuse.
We weren't there 2 minutes and I hadn't got the first hook baited when we heard...... splash.
Somehow Trot had gone rear end over tea kettle into the lake, all 3 foot of him and had this look of "How did this happen?" as all 4 of us practically peed our pants from laughing and spent the next 1 1/2 hours wearing his underwear and Ang's hoodie while his clothes dried in the sun.
Needless to say we didn't catch any fish. Again. Rakes got his fishing pole hooked in a tree while standing on a bench (don't ask), Trot flailed away at the water with HIS pole like he was beating a duck to death and went to the bathroom in his pants while frantically trying to make it up to the rest room at the top of the hill.
I blame myself. Every time we decide to go fishing I've got the image of Andy and Opie heading to the old fishing hole in my head while they've got Pantera blaring in theirs.
Next time?
I'm taking 'em back home.
To the zoo.
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