“Well, we didn’t catch any fish this time,” Geoff confesses, probably a first since I’ve known him and he’s taken a weekend in the swamp.
“Why not?” We’d had to run to DNR at the very last second Friday to get the correct license, so I was expecting fish, lots of big catfish (not that I eat them).
“They broke the hooks. Big hooks. Didn’t bend them, broke them right off.” Uh huh….
“And, like a good lawyer, I kept the broken hooks as proof!” Geoff’s friend.
“Hmm….well, maybe they were bad hooks?” Dad, trying to solve the problem.
“No! Don’t you understand? They’re telling a big fish tale. The fish they didn’t catch were SO BIG they broke the hooks.”
Big fish story.
Dad and Geoff love to watch those programs together. The ones about the Swamp People catching alligators. Or the Ice Truckers and logging. And then they like to comment on them and be arm chair Trucker-Logger people.
And they laugh at my suggestion to put a carpet over a hovercraft and make a flying carpet.