Fishing

It was a perfect evening for fishing.  Mike had a decent haul, but I was outfished by a six-year-old with a pink princess pole.  Sarah caught a large-mouth bass and the tiniest bluegill I've ever seen.  I only caught one bass.  She was using a rubber worm, which inspired her to sing a song to the tune of Sesame Street's "Rubber Ducky".  She sang it loudly and repeatedly, but it didn't seem to scare away any fish.  It went, "Rubber wormie, you're the one. You make fishing so much fun. Rubber wormie, I'm awfully fond of you."

Noah wasn't having much luck with worms, so he decided to switch to lures.  First he marinated a rubber worm in the container of real worms so it would "pick up their scent". The he used two lures at the same time.  He caught a good sized fish with that, so he added another lure.  By the time we quit, he had six or seven lures on his line.  The sheer weight of his bait dunked his bobber under the water, so it was hard to tell when he had an actual bite.

On the way home, Sarah wanted us to do ballet leaps over the cracks in the road.  I'm not (and never have been) a ballerina, but there I was running down Morton Avenue at rush hour, leaping with my arms in some ballet position (don't remember which).  I think I pulled a muscle.