Saturday morning I got up early, dressed quietly, made my lunch,
grabbed the dog, slipped quietly into the garage to hook the boat up to the truck,
and proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour.

The wind was blowing 50 mph. I pulled back into the garage,
turned on the radio, and discovered that the weather would be bad throughout the day.

I went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed.
There I cuddled up to my wife's back, now with a different anticipation,
and whispered, 'The weather out there is terrible.'

My loving wife of 20 years replied,
'Can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that shit?'

I still don't know to this day if she was joking, but I've stopped fishing.