My dad got a fishing boat for his birthday in April and the boys have been talking about Grandpa’s “pirate boat” ever since. I don’t know why Asher thinks every boat is used for pirating, but he does. I don’t correct him. It will be a sad day for me when he realizes that his Grandpa is not a pirate.
Because a boat is now in the picture, the males in our family have been discussing the need to get a fishing license. In fact, Robbie went to Walmart on Father’s Day Eve to get one from their Sporting Goods department. When he said he was going to get his fishing license there I commented that I had no clue that was even possible. “Oh yeah,” he said, like I was just a silly, ridiculous girl. “You can get a fishing license there.”
So he went and there was nary an employee in sight, as is typical at our local Walmart. He waited at the Sporting Goods counter for 20 minutes before he finally tracked someone down. They didn’t work in that department, of course, so he waited some more while they hunted down the appropriate personnel. That person said they didn’t have the correct forms, and he would need to go to Customer Service — which is where he went, because he was now 45 minutes invested in this experience.
The Customer Service line was very, very long, per usual. He returned to Sporting Goods and happened to notice a fishing brochure which had a website on it, and while he was waiting for Walmart to get it’s head out of its ass he used his smartphone to get his fishing license while standing in the department that is supposed to sell them.
I found none of this surprising.
The other day I was driving down the road with the kids when Maverick, who had been staring out the window deep in thought, suddenly said, “It seems like Grandpa would know how to fish by now.”
Me: What do you mean?
Maverick: He’s old … it seems like he’d know how to fish.
Me: He DOES know how to fish. And he’s not old. He’s 56.
Maverick: Then why is he always talking about getting a fishing lesson?
Maverick: A fishing lesson. I haven’t ever had a fishing lesson, and even I can catch a fish … I’m only 5 … I just don’t understand.
Me: A license. A fishing LICENSE.