After spending 12 hours in a car with my boss over the past two days, and regaling him with tales of my fishing exploits I wanted to send him a picture with one of tonights catches.
The first fish I landed was nice and shiny, cleanly hooked in the mouth. I gently brought him onto the beach and asked Chris to snap a photo while I held my catch. I told the fish that I just wanted a quick photo op and then he could be on his way back to hang with his fishy friends. Either this fish didn't speak English, or he thought I was a liar. When I picked him up he thrashed right out of my hands and the hook slipped and caused a spurt of blood and sand to shoot into my face. Now, I can't blame the fish for it's instinct for self-preservation, but I can blame my husband for continuing to snap pictures and giggle instead of lending me a hand.
I quickly wiped my face and then, while whispering calming words to my fishy foe, we posed for a picture. The salmon was released and swam away happy. When I went to look at the picture it became clear why Chris was giggling like a little kid.
I guess I can now say that a fish gave me a bloody nose!
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