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The (Official?) “I’m Married” Thread

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My mother and father were a gas at the dinner table. My father would point at whatever he wanted. My mother would tell him to ask for it if he wanted it. He would go right on eating without gravy for his potatoes or whatever and my mother would finally give in and hand him the item. At least once a week the above scene would play out and my sister and I had to sit there and not dare laugh.
 
My late dad was the last of our family line to inherit the outdoors gene: hunting, fishing, camping. I inherited all his fishing tackle but rarely use it... heck, I don't even like the smell or taste of fish.

The Trout Queen Darling Bride, however, found her passion in fly fishing: part science, part art, all sport. I support her, as I did over the weekend at one of her Project Healing Waters Fly Fishing (PHWFF) group's major annual outings (the program saved her life and gave me my wife back). She fished, I volunteered and was privileged to do so.

While she doesn't want it to end yet, sleeping on a leaky air mattress, in a tiny tent 300 yards from the bathhouse, is not my idea of a good time. At my age, "roughing it" is more like a hotel without room service. She went out again this morning while I struck the tent, broke camp and loaded up. I'm ready to go home to a real shower & shave, soft toilet paper and our king size bed.

And definitely a glass of wine since PHWFF prohibits alcoholic beverages on outings (maybe two).
 
The_Chief said:
My late dad was the last of our family line to inherit the outdoors gene: hunting, fishing, camping. I inherited all his fishing tackle but rarely use it... heck, I don't even like the smell or taste of fish.

The Trout Queen Darling Bride, however, found her passion in fly fishing: part science, part art, all sport. I support her, as I did over the weekend at one of her Project Healing Waters Fly Fishing (PHWFF) group's major annual outings (the program saved her life and gave me my wife back). She fished, I volunteered and was privileged to do so.

While she doesn't want it to end yet, sleeping on a leaky air mattress, in a tiny tent 300 yards from the bathhouse, is not my idea of a good time. At my age, "roughing it" is more like a hotel without room service. She went out again this morning while I struck the tent, broke camp and loaded up. I'm ready to go home to a real shower & shave, soft toilet paper and our king size bed.

And definitely a glass of wine since PHWFF prohibits alcoholic beverages on outings (maybe two).
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Hopefully there were no mosquitoes! 😊
 
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