“Whatever you do, do not let those crickets loose in the car.”

I delivered that simple instruction about four times before I let them get in the car at the start of our Saturday fishing trip.

We had stopped off at Blue Lake Grocery to pick up the much-needed purchases such as bait, a bucket (which they didn’t have) and snacks (which they did have). Since I forgot the cricket box, a very nice gentleman went out to his truck to see if he had an extra. Alas, he did not, so the crickets had to go in a paper bag. The only thing separating those crickets and freedom was a gem clip.

Before we left the house, I had already decided to take pity on those poor fisherman on Open Pond and spare the them the shrill shrieks of “She’s touching me,” “No, Dianna-Grace,” and “I got to go potty” that accompanies any sort of field trip of ours.

Instead, I elected to take them fishing at Buck Pond. Located in the Conecuh National Forest, this pond features a nice pier with very nice railing that keeps little children from falling in the water. It was just right up our alley.

There was a slight breeze stirring the water when we arrived. It took about 15 minutes to ready the poles. I had bought some inexpensive cane poles that only required a bit of knot tying before they were fishing ready. The oldest one was ready, armed with a rod-and-reel and pumped up on Coca-Cola and cheese puffs.

Slowly we – I really mean I – gathered up the gear and made our way down the path and onto the pier. Each step of the way, I was cautiously calling, “Watch where you put your feet.”

Once we arrived at our destination, it took a moment to separate the three. The left-handed one on this side, as to avoid any hooked eyelids (which by the way, I have seen happen in real life – to me) and the other two secured safely on the bench seat.

I, of course, was left holding the bag – literally – of crickets and nowhere to sit.

It wasn’t long before we got into the swing of things. Cricket on the hook and line slapped in the water.

Nibble. Nibble.

Nothing.

Nibble. Nibble.

Nothing.

On and on, the process went. We never caught a single fish, but you know what we did catch? A great time.

What I thought would be a one-hour trip turned into an all-afternoon adventure.

As a working parent, I oftentimes get caught up in making sure deadlines are met, clothes are washed and supper is on the table.

We should all slow down once and a while and go fishing.

That laundry will be there when you get back, I promise.

And the good news? Those crickets did not get loose inside the car, thank goodness.