I learned reason number 718 today why being single has some definite advantages. The ability to call an audible on your afternoon plans and not have to ask permission, beg, offer to clean house, do laundry, or any of those other 18 million excuses “kept” men have used over the evolution of time to do something that was otherwise not allowed without turning themselves into a modern day slave to get to enjoy a few hours of R & R (No offense married dude friends, been there done that and have a golden t-shirt to show for it), the whole point of this rambling is upon walking out of the office today I notice some “ripples” in the settling pond right outside of my office.
I walked the ten or so yards over to investigate and my extra Spidey sense was on full alert. Put on my polarized shades and my hands start trembling, I started getting some butterflies in my stomach, and I closed the distance to the shore of the pond quicker than it took to type this sentence. A sudden chill came over me, and I quickly self-diagnosed it as BASS FEVER. I cued up the Meghan Trainor in my head and immediately said to myself “Sloane and I are wetting a line tonight!” The fish were everywhere! Since I’ve worked at this location for almost eight years I also forgot that a serious case of bass fever usually makes one delusional and forgets every damn time they are all up on the shore like that you hardly catch any. Once again that was the case tonight but damn we had a blast trying.
Upon rescuing my young angler tonight from the nursing home, I immediately informed her that smoke bombs and bike riding can probably wait another night. When she shot me her puppy dog eyes and demanded to know why I casually dropped the “Do you want go to fishing” she immediately morphed into a teenage girl at a One Direction concert bouncing up and down singing some intelligible song about catching fish. Quick pit stop to change clothes and back to work we were headed to with a supply of Off, bait, and fishing poles. Sloane being the novice fisherman she is couldn’t quite get the “set” the hook down and missed quite a few fish herself, her dad thinking he was trying to qualify for the next bass masters tournament had one frigging hit all night and missed him. It was some of the best daddy/daughter time ever though. We laughed at near misses, second grade boy crush stories, and these ducks.
These ducks about caused me to have a conversation I’m not ready and I really hope Sloane isn’t ready for and that’s the birds and the bees. The female mallard pictured above is a duck slut. She is the kinkiest, raunchiest, female mallard in all of Indiana as far as I know. For as many years as I can remember she has had these two male mallards chasing her all over the quarry and when they finally do catch her it’s instant duck porn and they aren’t nice about it. Eventually the two male ducks get pissed off at each other and have epic throw downs in the middle of the pond and the silly female mallard just sits on the shore huffing on a cigarette reading a dime store romance novel. After 20 minutes they all make up and swim around like nothing ever happened. I promise to get all this on video one day because other than a duck reading and smoking a cigarette the rest of this stuff really does happen. As this was all going on in front of my precious seven year old daughters eyes her wondering mind started with the questions. Luckily I got out of it with some half-truth’s and flat out lies. At least the geese in this area must do their thing at night when nobody is around, the mallards think they are at some 70’s swinger party.
(FYI, that is THREE ducks)
(Yes she has pants on, she refused to tuck in her shirt!)
About it for the night, the little angler finally did land one though and it made her night so mission accomplished for dad, and shoot just got a text that softball practice is tomorrow now instead of Friday. Stay tuned for more adventures in “cool” parenting Friday. It could be smoke bombs or more fishing either way we are going to have fun!