Pigtails, cowboy belts and new summer jeans.
A long ride to the lake. I can't wait to get fishin'!
I have to take Sis? Mooom . . . how mean!
Hurry up little sister, there's no time to lose.
Cut a new pole, dig a can of worms,
Run out on the dock and find your own place.
Pleading, with nose twisted,
A worm gingerly pinched between two fingers,
I finally agree to bait my pathetic sister's hook.
The day wears on and on, hot and quiet.
Shh, Sis, or you'll scare 'em away.
No, Sis, we can't go back, we haven't caught a fish yet.
Little sister just doesn't understand the fine art of fishing.
I said a little longer.
"But I'm hungry."
Just a little bit longer.
"But I have to gooo . . ."
Sis, please, it won't be long . . .
YES! . . . I caught one. Now you see!
Angry and tired and not impressed with my catch, she pulled in her worm,
And with a quick flick of the wrist, off the hook she did pluck it.
With hands on her hips, looking me square in the eye she declared,
Anyone, who would sit out here all day for that, is dumb enough to fish in a bucket!