This Is No Picnic

This Is No Picnic We packed up the grill and my uncle took us to the lake I was hoping for a burger, maybe even a juicy steak Amazed was I to see the cooler packed with frozen shrimp What kind of picnic is this? My smiling lips went limp “Stop pouting,” said Uncle Tim, tossing me a fishing pole “This here lake is filled with huge trout. It’s the best fishing hole” If we wanted to eat lunch, first we would have to catch it Seems his picnic invitation this info did omit The hours dragged past and we hadn’t had a single bite Our clan was growing hungry and grandma seemed uptight So she took charge and lit the grill in spite of Tim's protests But he could not do battle with her so he acquiesced Mosquitoes were drawn to scents of shrimp on the barbecue Then a horde of hornets found our camp and buzzed on through We screamed and scurried about to avoid their bites and stings Till Uncle Tim doused the grill and took us to Burger King He ordered burgers to go, placed a blanket on our lawn Till this day we still laugh at the antics we’d undergone Written for Carol Brown's Picnic Time contest