Going Fishing -- by KittyCat

I got excited a few weeks back cuz Dad and I were going fishing—a short day trip to make sure his stuff all worked just right before he went on a long trip.

Mom thinks boats are made to sit in and read without being bothered by the telephone. She reads weird books when we’re supposed to be out having fun. Like that very day, she had a book open. It was about house parts. Boring, right? It gets worse. The very top of a page said in big letters “Functions of Carpet.” Sheesh—you can bet even a stupid dog like Stooee knows carpets are made for snoozing when folks are hogging the furniture.

Anyhow, I gave Dad a special fishing knife last year for Father’s Day. It’s called an electric fillet knife, but you don’t even have to plug it into anything. All Dad has to do is hold a fish by the tail, and toss the scraps to me when he turns the knife off.

“Raw fish,” Mom said one day… Well, you don’t want to know what she said, or much less what Dad said after that.

So we were almost ready for our day trip, and Mom yelled at me. “KittyCat! Get out of there.”

I wasn’t IN there. I would never never get in a tub of water. I was just looking over the side of the tub Dad had filled with little fish.

“We’ll see you at supper, Dear,” Mom said to Dad. “KittyCat and I are staying home. He’ll just be a bother.”

“OK,” Dad gave her a little "see you later" kiss, pretending to be cheerful.

But I felt sorry for him. He’d gone to all that work to get me a tub full of little fish so I could catch them while he caught big fish.

Mom just doesn't understand guy fun.