Fafafafafishing

I smell like fish.
Chief knocked a drink all over Anna's bedside table. It got on one of her books. She's mad at him.
This commercial I'm watching says that I could train as a "culinary professional." Fun.
Bobbie came by today wanting four more dollars worth of quarters. Again, she told me that she hadn't yet gotten her "warshin'" done. I just want to ask her what happened to all those quarters if she hasn't gotten her laundry done.
George got a new tv today. I helped him carry it into his apartment.
Most everyone has paid their rent for the month, but Marilyn still hasn't. I can't go to the bank until she pays.
Light blue.
Chief is circling my chair as I write this. I think he is contemplating what part of me to eat first when I die.
My dad is going elk hunting tomorrow. He's taking off two weeks, apparently. I am so so so jealous.
The Rockies lost tonight. My life is ruined.
Anna, I must apologize. But I'm having a love affair with this shiatsu massage chair.
So today was the day we had agreed to take Daulton fishing. As a result, I just spent an evening fishing with a hyperactive, prepubescent, roughly 15 year old boy. (On a side note, I have an impossible time understanding him when he talks. I think it is a combination of several things. First of all, he mumbles terribly. Secondly, he is a speed talker. Third, his grammar poor enough that it throws me sometimes. Fourth, he still talks like a little kid, and I've never been able to understand little children talking.) So, it should go without saying that I'm worn out.
I felt bad for Daulton earlier today. It started raining a little bit, while he was at the apartment, and he actually looked like he was going to cry because he thought we wouldn't be able to go fishing. I had to assure him that even if it did rain, we would still try to go.
His dad brought Daulton back from his parole meeting at five, and after a quick stop at Wal-mart for some worms, we headed to the in-laws. Daulton couldn't wait to get out of the car and to the pond. That was until we pulled into the driveway, and the dogs came up to the car. It took a couple minutes of coaxing before we could convince Daulton that the dogs weren't going to bite him.
We fished for about two hours. I ended up catching a couple bass pretty quickly, and this made Daulton mad. So he decided he wanted to use my pole. We traded poles, and I proceeded to catch several blue gill. Daulton kept telling me he didn't like me anymore. It took a little convincing, but I got Daulton to use his pole again with some worms for bait. He managed to catch a few blue gill of his own, but he wasn't content with that. He switched back to trying to catch bass but kept getting mad at me as I caught more blue gill.
As it was getting dark, I hooked a blue gill, but it managed to get itself tangled in a dead tree that had fallen in the pond. Anna's father said he would get in the boat, row out, and untangle it. Daulton decided he wanted to tag along. "Tag along" turned into "paddle the boat awkwardly around the pond." Anna, I think, had a ball watching her dad deal with Daulton. They did manage to get the fish untangled, but after they were done, Daulton decided he wanted to row around the pond. I don't know how Anna's dad had the patience to deal with that little adventure. During this trip, we discovered Daulton is scared of spiders. Anna and I were talking on the shore when we heard Daulton let out a squeal. We turned to watch him stand up and wildly brush himself off, screaming about daddy longlegs.
Daulton just kept getting crazier as the evening progressed. As we were picking up our poles and stuff to go in, Daulton actually jumped onto Anna's father's unsuspecting back and demanded a piggy-back ride. I was astounded at how calmly Anna's dad said that Daulton should probably carry in his own equipment and not be carried.
Once inside, Daulton said he was starving and wanted a hamburger, but he wouldn't eat a pre-formed patty. So Anna's mother was kind enough to thaw out some hamburger and fix him one. He didn't eat it. He decided he was fully. But apparently he wasn't full enough to keep him from wanting ice cream. He begged and begged for ice cream. He whined and cried for ice cream. We said heck no.
I guess, as I describe this evening, I realize how badly I'm failing to capture how hyperactive and overwhelming Daulton was tonight. We did tell him that if he continues to behave we might take him fishing again, but we'll call his dad and make sure he is behaving before we do. I'm not looking forward to it if it ever does happen again.
Don't worry. I feel bad. I will continue to do my best for the kid. But he drives me up the wall.
I'm hungry. I'm going to go fix another BLT. I will continue to eat BLTs until I run out of tomatoes from the in-laws' garden.
Goodnight, dear, better looking and more intelligent than the average person, readers.