The Fish.

If someone asked me how I operated under pressure, and I was COMPLETELY honest, I would say…TERRIBLY. In fact, these days I try to avoid drama like the plague because, although it amused me greatly as a teenager, it gives me total panic attacks these days. I avoid confrontation (unless it’s with an umpire or opposing coach on a baseball field, of course), stay clear of all crisis situations and basically try to keep as stress-free of an existence as I possibly can.

However, for SOME reason, Hubbit tends to attract chaos. For example, I would be perfectly happy and content living as a recluse in spider-less woods, miles and miles away from other people, where no one’s ridiculousness could skew my own. However, if I were to invite Hubbit to be my co-habitant in these spider-less woods that only exist in my sweetest dreams, there is no doubt…NO DOUBT…some person in need would stumble upon our creatively hidden tree house and need some type of flippin’ medical treatment, on a very regular basis.

I’ve pretty much come to expect some teenage pregnant chick to pass out, some old lady to crash into a tree or some anorexic beauty queen to have an allergic reaction to new psychiatric meds at any given time, pretty much any place we ever go. McDonald’s, an Interstate in Virginia or Arby’s…doesn’t matter where we are. It never fails, someone needs help and dun-dun-dun-aaaahhh…Hubbit comes to the rescue.

For the first few years, it freaked me out and Hubbit pretty much had two patients on his hands. The first being the person who was ACTUALLY in need of medical attention and the second being ME, the person who freaked-the-helicopter-out anytime an emergency occurred around me.

These days, my game plan goes a little something like this:

Stranger: Help, I think I am having a heart attack.
Hubbit: Dun-dun-dun-aaaahhh! I will save you!
Me: (turning immediately toward the door and saying to Hubbit) I’ll meet you in the car when this is all over, thanks.

Yep. Classic avoidance.

Something I’ve mastered over the years, no psychiatrist in their right mind can tell me isn’t helpful and/or healthy in at least SOME cases, such as this.

In any case, the whole point to my rambling is: Hubbit is a helper.

Now, on to the real dish…

About a week ago we were on our way to a family birthday gathering and as a result of an ignorant person trying to text while they were driving, two cars in front of us almost crashed horribly in front of us. At the speed we were going (Hubbit was driving so we ALL know it was faster than legally allowed), the crash would have been potentially very damaging to the cars and their drivers.

Hubbit joked: “Thank God they didn’t crash because I would not have been able to stop and help since it would have made us late for the birthday party. We're actually early for once.”

(Disclaimer: He was joking. We ALL know his “helper” mentality would not let him pass by anyone in need.)

Since we were actually running ahead of schedule, Hubbit decided he wanted to take us to this little fishing hole he’d discovered a few days before. While he knew you couldn’t eat them, he claimed he saw tons of enormous grass carp swimming in it and thought the kids might like to take a peek. After all, it was on our way to the birthday gathering.

We arrived at the little creek and when we did, were in absolute awe at the sight of thirty five GIANT grass carp, swimming in shallow water. Hubbit had noted the drop in the water level just from the day before, when he said it was basically at the top of the bank’s edge.

We all stood there, looking at the pretty 60 pound creatures floating around in the water. All of a sudden, Hubbit glanced down the creek and spotted a giant grass carp stuck in an extremely shallow area of water I’m pretty sure could best be described as a puddle. In fact, I’m 99% sure I’ve seen deeper puddles in the Wal-Mart parking lot after all of this rain we’ve had lately.

The fish had its head under the water, but most of its back was exposed above water. Hubbit grew concerned immediately. He was genuinely worried about the fate of this fish.

The only access to the big swimmer was to walk on really small rocks, into the middle of the creek. Convinced this fish would die unless he was able to transfer it back into the deeper water where the rest of the fish were fully covered, Hubbit insisted on venturing into the creek.

This is a man who just hours before told me he was thinking about taking up hunting and he now couldn’t stand the idea of this dumb fish dying. By the way, he’s never hunted in his life and I’m pretty sure he’d be more likely to kill a human being than a deer...but WHATEV.

I tried to stop him, considering we WERE on our way to a family party and HE was the one who insisted on us being timely. In addition, I was not amused by the fact he thought his giant size 15 shoes would fit easily on the tiny stones that led to the distressed swimmer.

But, my pleas fell upon deaf ears and before I knew it Hubbit was almost-falling every two seconds on the slippery rocks, making his way toward the fish. Meanwhile, Flea was laughing, Bug was begging to be allowed to help and I was praying out loud that Hubbit didn’t fall, knock himself unconscious and force me to make what would likely be the most embarrassing 911 call EVER. Although, I’m not sure if it would have been more embarrassing for me or him considering the Fire Department Grapevine passes gossip faster than any other I’ve ever witnessed. Who knew a bunch of middle aged men had better gossip spreading skills than the average 12 year old girl?!

In any case, he made it to the fish and bent down to pick up the giant creature. He picked it up with both hands easily, but as he stood up to walk three rocks down for the ultimate water transfer, the fish slipped right out of his hands. It landed on rocks (I have NO idea how it survived the fall) and before Hubbit could recover it once more, it slipped back into the puddle it was retrieved from.

At this point, I started trying to convince Hubbit things like…

1) It liked the puddle and actually WANTED to be there so it could tan it's back in the sun.
2) There’s no way a fish that big could be dumb enough to get itself stuck in a place it couldn’t survive. After all, it did somehow live long enough to pack on 60 POUNDS!
3) Even if he did catch the fish, it was far too slippery to actually hold onto long enough to make the intended transfer.

Persistent and stubborn, Hubbit refused to give up. Instead, he started silently looking around for something to aid him with the rescue. All of a sudden, Bug spotted an old rusty metal-grated-fence-type-of-thing and in his own personal MacGyver style, suggested Hubbit slap the fish up onto the grate and then carry the grate to the fuller area of water. Hubbit smiled, the plan was set into motion and Bug was VERY proud his idea was being put to use.

Twenty five minutes after we’d first arrived to the scene and after a few more failed attempts, the plan did work. The fish was “rescued” and we headed back to our parked vehicle.

As we got back in the van and buckled up, I looked Hubbit in the eye and said, “Well, it’s a good thing those cars didn’t crash because HEAVEN FORBID us be late because you had to play Superman or something.”

Whitney

“I used to be lost in the shuffle. Now I just shuffle along with the lost.” (Author Unknown)