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Patricia parked in the driveway, happy to be home again after dropping the kids off at their friend’s house for the afternoon. She was about to go inside when voices came from the backyard. Pat followed the path around the side of the house, then stopped short in surprise.

Her husband, Ted, held a large pole in his hand. His best friend and fellow card player, Doug Monroe, stood watch, pitching in with a constant stream of instructions.

“Fly casting is easy,” Doug said. “Picture the face of a clock, then move your arm to the 12 o’clock position. The weight of the line will bend the tip of the pole back as it straightens out behind you— No! Stop! You’re going too far—”

The string flew across the yard, the tip swishing an inch away from Patricia‘s face. She yelped and jumped backwards, as her husband ran toward her, sprouting a cluster of apologies.

“Honey, I’m so sorry. I was just casting a fishing line.”

“I can see that.” Pat rubbed her nose; happy it was still attached to her face. “You still have a lot to learn.”

“Ah, Pat,” Doug interjected. “Not to worry. Ted here is a natural. He just needs a little more time watching an expert like me. Then he’ll be reeling in the fish by the dozens.”

Patricia crossed her arms. “You’re an expert, are you?”

“Sure I am. I’ve been out on the water plenty of times.”

“Now don’t be a fibber!” A new voice entered the conversation. Tammy, Doug’s wife, came over from next-door. “Doug Monroe, you have been out fishing exactly four times in your whole life. An expert, you are not!”

“I still know what I’m doing, and if I need help, I can refer to this.” Doug reached behind him and pulled a small booklet out of his hip pocket. “I picked it up at the grocery store.”

“The grocery store?” Tammy took the pamphlet. “That’s where you buy fish, not catch them!”

“Har-dee-har-har,” Doug shot back. “I assure you, Mrs. Smarty-Pants, this brochure can tell us everything we need to know about the wondrous world of fishing.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Pat peered over Tammy’s shoulder for a look.

The booklet was called “Fishin’ Tips. A Guide to Fishing and Fun.” Patricia pointed to the name at the bottom. “Look, it was printed by a beer company.”

“That’s right,” Doug called out. “I got it while picking up a six pack.”

“Figures.” Tammy wrinkled her nose then opened up the booklet. Immediately they were greeted with a question. “Why go Fishing?”

“Beautiful painting of a fish,” Pat appreciated art whenever she found it, even in a brochure.

Tammy flipped the page. “Oh look,” she exclaimed. “Here’s all the stuff you need to buy before you even begin. The guys could spend a couple of hours in the store just to get ready for the trip!”

“And they say we shop too much,” Patricia shot a glance toward her husband.

Ted threw up his hands. “No complaints the next time I get my credit card bill, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Pat said.

“Besides,” Doug moved forward to point out the contents of the next page. “Since fish can see color, you have to have a whole bunch of different lures to attract them.”

“Then, you have to practice your moves,” Ted said. “It’s all in the wrist.”

“You see girls,” Doug slipped into lecture mode. “Fly casting is actually an art form.”

“I could do without this type of art.” Patricia rubbed her nose.

“Ah, honey,” Ted reached for her. “I said I was sorry.”

“I know you are, dear.” She instantly forgave him. “Tell me about your plans. Is there more than one kind of fishing?”

“You bet!” Ted plucked the pamphlet out of Tammy’s grip and flipped the page. “There’s lake fishing.”

“Fishing in fast water.”

“Night fishing.”

“Float fishing.”

“Ice fishing.”

“Pan fishing.”

“And finally big game fishing.”

Tammy perched her fists on her hips and tapped her foot. “Are you boys going to try all these different types of fishing?”

“Not all at once,” Doug admitted.

“You don’t have to worry,” Ted added. “We won’t go anywhere without the proper first aid equipment.”

“Here’s a fun dinner we can cook up with our catch.”

“That’s all true.” Patricia took possession of the booklet, then opened it to the center. “But here’s the real reason for the excursion!”

“No one said fishing wasn’t fun,” Doug added.

“It would be a great time,” Ted wisely threw in, “if you girls joined us.”

Pat pretended to consider it. “What do you think, Tammy. Should we spend a day with the boys out on the lake?”

“It might be enjoyable. We could work on our tans while they catch our dinner.”

“Then it’s a date.” Doug slapped Ted on the shoulder. “We better get to practicing if we want to provide for the meal.”

“And Tammy,” Patricia gestured toward her kitchen. “I think we better pack a picnic hamper just in case the fish get away!”

“Great idea, Pat.” Tammy laughed and the girls headed inside.

They all knew they’d enjoy the outing, whether the boys caught any fish or not.

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