This One's a Keeper

In the States, if it is of a specific species, a fish has to be a certain length in order for it to "be a keeper." If it is, then you put it in your wire basket or on a stringer and keep it cool in the water until it is time to go home, clean, cook, and then eat the fish.  The Game Warden (nature's police) will fine you a lot of money and take away your fishing license if you are found with a fish that is undersized and if you have too many of a certain kind of fish of which there is a state limit to catch for the day.  A couple of days ago, I was able to quickly pack and make a last minute get away to my parents' home in order to go fishing with my dad.  Storm drove me the two hours it takes to get here, visited for just a little bit with the family, and then drove back home to hold down the fort there this week while I am gone.  He likes for me to be able to fish as he knows how much I truly love it.  Especially when I get to go with my dad.

I told my dad last night when we were standing on his docks, casting in our lines, and talking to one another that, "The weather is perfect, it is exactly the time of night (sunset) where the fish will be biting and I am with my favorite fishing buddy (Storm doesn't fish.)  I would rather be here with you in this moment than anywhere else."  Later, my mom told me that my dad preciously told her that I said that about him and that it made him feel really nice.  For the past few weeks, he has been sending me pictures of the fish he has caught and some details in attempts to entice me to get to his house ASAP.  I would be here every day if I could.

In between fishing all day, we take breaks and have fish fries for dinner before we head back out to the lake again.  Here at their home, my parents continue to do that whole bickering thing that they have as long as I have known them.  It often has some element of humor, but not necessarily to either one of them.  Just the observer. Me in this case.  My mom has a huge rear end.  She bent over to get something out of the fridge and my dad was behind her, looked at me, and acted like he was going to back hand swat her rear end. Before I could even start laughing, my mom says, "I know what you're doing back there. Quit it!" Earlier I had seen their giant cheeseboard that was on the counter and so as my mom left the room, I grabbed it by the handle, got my dad's attention, raised my eyebrows at him like, "want to use this?" and I motioned in the air like I was taking a baseball swing, and he silently mouths the words, "YES, YES!," as he vigorously nodded his head.  Oh gosh, if they only knew, huh?  And, please do not suggest to me in the comment section that my parents may have a secret here because there is no way on God's green earth that my mother would ever let my father be her HOH.

Between my dad and me, there is some teasing that goes on when we fish together.  If one of us catches a small fish, the other one of it calls it a sardine. If one of us catches a big fish, we are both happy,  but then if the other of us catches a bigger one, then the previous one becomes a minnow. When I pack him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich along with one I have made for myself and then it is lunchtime on the pier,  I give him his sandwich and he acts like I just handed him a Golden Ticket to tour the Willie Wonka Factory.  He loves it that much.  He is so dramatic that it is hilarious sometimes.  But, I do have to admit that it is hard to beat a nice PB & J when you're very hot and hungry after fishing all morning.  That and a bottle of water and then we're all ready to fish again.

Storm and I don't like being apart , but like I said he encourages me to fish when I can because he knows it feeds my soul.  So he was getting ready to leave my parents' house and he embraced me in a hug that I will NEVER forget.  Yes, we have had wonderful hugs over our almost 30 year marriage.  But, this one was just different and I truly believe it is because we feel more connected because of our growing ttwd relationship.  He hugged me in the middle of the kitchen where my family was gathered.  He held me tight, close, and fully.  He whispered to me that he was going to miss me.  And then, for the very first time in this kind of situation, he gently grabbed and squeezed the back of my neck.  Oh gosh.  And then he whispered quietly but authoritatively in my ear, "Be good."   Holy smokes, I wanted to leave with him right then and check into the nearest motel and jump his bones.  We did talk about making a detour on the way here for some goofing around somewhere off in Amish land -- something we have done in the past.  We have great and very specific memories about a cornfield, a farmer and his tractor (neither of those was involved with our sexual activity, you sickos, we were trying to hide from him), a gravel road off the beaten path, and NAKED sex in the car. Woo! Woo!  But this trip, due to time constraint and other factors, we did not break any public decency laws.  This time.

If I  were to compare Storm to a big male fish that far surpasses the required length by law, I would say for sure, "This One's a  keeper!"  And, Storm, if you're reading this, Honey, and I highly suspect you are, I miss you and I love you.  Maybe we can arrange some fun in Amish Land on the way home?!