My husband. Gotta
love him. He is very neat, does laundry,
vacuums and just loves to wash dishes. He loves to fish as well, but have
patience; I’ll get to that in a minute.
He’s pretty much the
perfect guy right? In a way he is kind
of like me. When he is doing something
he doesn’t quit till he’s finished. This Christmas his daughter came over with
a car problem. Being the handy, considerate man that he is, he started to work
on it right between slicing the turkey and eating the pie.
He went into the garage to get a tool or some such thing and
couldn’t find it. What’s a guy to do but
empty the rollaway tool chest in piles around it, looking in vain?
Unbeknownst to me, he put a pile of snelled fishing hooks
dead center of the passageway to my car. For the non-fisherperson’s information, a
snelled hook is a hook attached to some form of line or device. Basically a tangled up group of fishing lines
with fishhooks added to the mix.
So, fast forward a few days and I’m heading to work. I walk smack into something. It’s a little dark in that part of the garage
and I don’t turn the light on. Something
is grabbing me and tearing at my pants.
I reach down and realize what it is.
I pull and tear and relocate a hornet’s nest of hooks in a safer part of
the garage, not realizing I was taking a souvenir.
I wait on customers like I always do. It’s after Christmas so it’s pretty
busy. After a few minutes I realize I
have a snelled hook swinging sideways from the bottom of my pants. One customer snickers. Another customer nods her head in
understanding. I pull and try to
dislodge the unwelcome guest to no avail.
No avail that is unless I want to rip a hole in my brand new pants.
I get an idea. If I
get a wire cutter, I can cut the hook in the middle and slide it out with no
damage. I look in the box of tools we
keep for putting up signs and displays and found a rusty old pair of needle
nosed pliers with a cutter section on it.
Snip, snip and I am free.
Not exactly what they mean when they say catch and release but at least
I am hook free.
My husband, you gotta love him. You may ask did he ever fix that car
problem? Well, no, he didn’t, so that my
friend is most likely a story for another day.
