Because it was such a beautiful evening and I had no other source of outdoor entertainment, I decided to tag along with the boys on their fishing/hunting trip. The two youngest were on a fishing expedition and my oldest was leading the way with a pellet gun, just in case a squirrel happened by.
Being that the little cowboys were on a hunting/fishing excursion, their attire was a little confusing. Please understand that I had no control over this issue.
Fortunately, the fish were biting anyhow.
His big brothers helped him take them off the hook and put them on the stringer each time. Some of the fish would wiggle out of their little hands and flop around on the rock, but eventually one of the boys would take hold of it, give it a nice little lecture and carefully place it on the stringer.
Then my little towhead hooked a biggin’.
After some debate as to who rigged up the stringer in the first place and whether to keep the biggin’ on a vine or branch, they settled on using the tackle bucket as a makeshift livewell.
Unfortunately, it was getting a bit dark out and being that I’d left my cell phone at the house and we didn’t have any flashlights or flares, I decided it was time to pack up and head back to the house.
Halfway down the trail, I heard a cell phone ringing.
Then I noticed my 6-year-old set down his bucket, fish and fishing pole, reach into his pocket and flip open his cell phone.
“Hello?… Oh we went fishin’! Yeah, she’s with us. Boy, we caught a biggin’…
…yep, only one, the others got away.”