Daddy likes to tell a story about taking me fishing when I was about 3 years old.
Clever man that he is, he devised a plan where he could look after me while Mommy was at work and still knock out a few hours at one of his favorite past-times, fishing. Off we went to the dam (That’s dam, not damn. I’m not cursing again. Geesh) with tackle box and poles in tow.
Once Daddy found the perfect spot for us to fish, he set me up with a pole of my own. It was a cane pole with no line and no hook. Just a pole. Daddy busied himself with casting his line into the water while I sat contentedly with my pole. I was three. I didn’t know any better. I was fishing.
After awhile a man approached and set up his fishing gear near our spot. I was sitting between Daddy and this new arrival. He sat down and cast his line into the water. Every once in awhile he would look over at me and smile.
Fishing can be a little boring and eventually the man struck up a conversation with me. Daddy taught me that a good fisher(wo)man is quiet but I couldn’t resist the temptation to make a new friend. We chatted a bit and then he said, “You know you’re never going to catch any fish like that. You don’t even have a line in the water.”
After careful consideration of his observation, I replied, “I’m catching as many as you are.”
…….and so it was, a Smart Mouth Broad was born.