Feb 19, 2011

One fish, two fish, my fish...

I wouldn’t say that my spouse and I compete when it come to fishing. I wouldn’t exactly say we try to top one another. I’d say we do…data tracking.

We like to track things like who caught the first fish. (Note to self-post picture on Facebook).

Who caught the biggest fish (note to self-Twitter about the nice bass).

Who caught the most fish (note to self-sharpen hubby’s fish knife for him).

This year, I’m adding “who caught the first fish of the year”.  Not that I’m the bragging type who’d keep score (note to self-update spreadsheet FISH 2011 after blogging).

Our first fishing trip of the year went like this:

Me: Whoo hoo! Another one!

Him: If you weren't catching fish, I'd be ready to go. It's too windy.

Me: Whoo Hoo!  Another one!

Him: I think we should come back later.

Me: Whoopi!  Another one!

Him: Great. I just broke the tip of my pole.

Me: So you'll clean these so we can have them for dinner?

Him: Me?!  I didn't catch those fish!

Me: No, but that's the agreement.

Him: I didn't agree to cleaning your fish.

Me: Oh yes you did. It was a tacit, implied contract that you agreed to when A) you didn't catch any fish and B) when you accepted that new electric fish knife from me at Christmas. I catch em', you clean 'em, I cook 'em. I'm doing two-thirds of the work.

Him: I think this system is broken. And I want slaw and cornbread with those fish. Beer batter. And cherry pie.

Pie?!  There's no pie in this deal. Hmm, I might need to re-negotiate this contract.


Anonymous said...

Great. Now I can't stop saying red fish blue fish...

Jeff said...

Nice Bass!!!