pulmike
05-09-2006, 09:33 AM
So I've been not smoking for 50 days now. Yea! I even took off the last of the patches 5 days ago, so I have now REALLY quit smoking.
Meanwhile, a couple of days ago my son Tyler caught this gigantic trout. In Pampa pond, of all places. It really was huge. He swore it was twenty inches as he called me by cell phone on the way home. Despite the late hour I waited up for him to get home; it would have been unseemly for me to just go to bed in the face of such exhuberance. Besides, contrary to our usual habit of catch-and- release, he had kept it and was determined to show it to me. I understood.
As I waited a moderate case of the no smoking hebe jebes came over me, passed, and came over me again. By the time Tyler arrived with his fish I was in some distress. We measured it out at 18 inches. In Tyler's defense it was truly one fat trout, and also in his defense the markings on his creel, you know, the inch markings where you measure your fishes- they had actually shrunk. I saw it with my own eyes. By steel ruler the trout measured 18 inches. By creel it measured 19. So either the creel company makes its inches shorter. in the way of a manufacturer of women's clothing with dress sizes, or it had shrunk in the creeks, or whatever.
Anyway, I had waited up and after being properly awed by Tyler's catch, I was facing yet another battle with my nicotine deprived sleeplessness. It really was quite the fish.
As he went to bed Tyler offered me a kindless. "Dad?" he said.
"Yes?"
"Dad, if it gets too tough on you tonight you can open the refrigerator and look at my fish some more."
I looked over to see if he was joking. He wasn't.
"Thanks, son".
Later that night, I did, and I thought of the son that loved me, and I loved him back.
pulmike
Meanwhile, a couple of days ago my son Tyler caught this gigantic trout. In Pampa pond, of all places. It really was huge. He swore it was twenty inches as he called me by cell phone on the way home. Despite the late hour I waited up for him to get home; it would have been unseemly for me to just go to bed in the face of such exhuberance. Besides, contrary to our usual habit of catch-and- release, he had kept it and was determined to show it to me. I understood.
As I waited a moderate case of the no smoking hebe jebes came over me, passed, and came over me again. By the time Tyler arrived with his fish I was in some distress. We measured it out at 18 inches. In Tyler's defense it was truly one fat trout, and also in his defense the markings on his creel, you know, the inch markings where you measure your fishes- they had actually shrunk. I saw it with my own eyes. By steel ruler the trout measured 18 inches. By creel it measured 19. So either the creel company makes its inches shorter. in the way of a manufacturer of women's clothing with dress sizes, or it had shrunk in the creeks, or whatever.
Anyway, I had waited up and after being properly awed by Tyler's catch, I was facing yet another battle with my nicotine deprived sleeplessness. It really was quite the fish.
As he went to bed Tyler offered me a kindless. "Dad?" he said.
"Yes?"
"Dad, if it gets too tough on you tonight you can open the refrigerator and look at my fish some more."
I looked over to see if he was joking. He wasn't.
"Thanks, son".
Later that night, I did, and I thought of the son that loved me, and I loved him back.
pulmike