So, I’m wondering. Should I be concerned that all my four little twit children want to do is sit on our frozen pond and ice fish ALL day long?
That would be my four heathen children, one cousin and their little dog in the middle of our frozen pond…ice fishing.
What’s wrong with them…seriously?
Yes, that child is sitting on the ice. Has he no brain? Or does choose not to use it?
This boy evidently chooses not to use his brain either. There must be something wrong with him too?
For the love of God, can’t one of them figure out that the ice is freakin’ cold?
Thank you baby girl for using some of your brain cells. At least there is hope for someone in this family. But on the other hand, you are sitting on a five gallon bucket on the frozen pond in 20 degree weather trying to catch a fish. Enough said. I think you may have inherited the same disease as your brothers have- inability to use their brains for practical reasons.
He is the champion, my friend…and he will keep on ice fishing to the end. (please sing this to the tune of “We are the Champions” by Queen and you will dig it. JUST DO IT, NOW!)
Okay, now that I have everyone singing, on to our previously scheduled program.
Wait…if I’m slightly deranged, then maybe that’s where my kiddos get their affliction for weirdness from. Oh, geez…and I always blamed it on Cranky and his family genes.
So, I am worried a bit. My punks love to fish. They would rather fish than anything else in the world. They had a chance to get off the farm today to get some culture but they chose to sit on that frozen pond…all day long.
I worry when my baby girl fills out her first grade “get to know me” paper and it says she want to be a pro bass fisherwoman on it. She wants to fish on the pro bass circuit. When I was in 1st grade, I wanted to be a rodeo clown. I didn’t even know there was a pro bass circuit when I was in first grade.
You know that I am a huge advocate of the “Buy Fresh, Buy Local” or the zero mile theory with food consumption, right? Well, if you didn’t know, I am. And as much as I buy into these well thought out and common sense visions of the ultimate food chain, I would rather buy Mrs. Paul’s frozen fish sticks that came from like, China or some other foreign country, than to sit on my bum on a frozen pond all day trying to catch fish for supper. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the common sense factor here.
Great…even the dog’s brain is frozen too. There has to be an end to this fishing madness.
I guess I could drain the pond.