Adult Logic

… can be such a killjoy!  Yes, I have an overly mouthy opinion ready to post for Monday’s madness, but first this interlude.

Lake pier at dusk.
Enter two parents, 11-year-old son, and 7-year-old cousin for some fishing adventure.
Add leeches and imagination, mix well.

Just as we were winding down the catch & release program of “No—too small and I’m not cleaning it,” the boys and I spotted something large on the darkening horizon.

“What is that?!”

“Oh my god, what IS that?”

It’s black, but so is most everything at that time of day.  It’s on the surface and has what looks like a tail, horns, and… something.  My (ex)husband continues to fish, ignoring us and the object, as we stare at it and ponder.

“Giant Squid!”

“Cthulhu!” [I heart my son]

“Sea Monster!”

It gets closer, and closer.  “It’s flocking this way!”  [Yes, Jurassic Park quotes are popular in my house]

“What IS that?”

“How big do turtles get, Auntie Kelli?”

“Not that big.  Well, there was that movie I saw when I was little…”

“I’m telling you, it’s a monster.  Can’t you see the tentacles?”

“No really, what IS that?!”

The three of us are giggling and the story of what it is gets more and more “Sci-Fi Original” with each sentence.  Everything from an alien to a giant man-eating toad is guessed.  The boys start to slowly move away from it, as they continue giggling and guessing while they nonchalantly sidestep toward shore.  I walk out further, step onto the left T-section of the pier and squint.  I’m blind.  I have horrible twilight vision and this thing is huge.  My imagination is no better than theirs, but I’m slightly braver.  Meanwhile, the hubby is still ignoring the entire exchange from the right T-section as he puts another leech on his hook and tosses it to the murky depths.

“What IS that?!”

“It’s swimming against the current.”

“It’s getting closer!”

“Mom, come back here!”

Enter Mr. Killjoy.  He who can see a turkey at 500 yards and tell you if it’s missing a tail feather and what kind of predator’s teeth marks are on the remaining plumage. He’s decided to turn around and see what the heck we’re all excited about.

“It’s only a garbage bag.”

Three heads turn to him and three mouths fall open.  I don’t know about the boys, but my expression was far more “Butthead, why ruin our fun?” than it was “How the hell can you see that far in the dark?”

We waited for it to approach.  Sure enough, it’s a garbage bag.  The tied ends were horns, the still partially folded tip was a tail/tentacle, and the wind had given it just enough air to allow it both size and freedom of movement.  Mystery solved, leech supply drained, and daylight gone, so we head back—imaginations tucked safely away in our disappointed minds.

Adult logic can really suck the fun out of life sometimes.

Side note for this weekend’s camping extravaganza: You know you’re hardcore if the temperature is cold enough to snow, the waves are high enough to cover the dock, there isn’t a single boat to be seen on the lake and several people have given up and gone home, but there you are.  On the dock with your 11-year-old son.  Because you were going fishing, damn it, and not even pre-hurricane weather is going to stop you!

Thoughts? Tell me what you think...

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