No dinner when you and your buddy go fishing on Mother's Day.

Way back in college (over 50 years ago on Mother's Day), my good buddy Ray and I left the wives and two babies to go fly fishing on the Madison River. I got down the steep embankment first and hooked a nice brown right off. As I turned to show it to Ray, he made a huge leap off the embankment. "Rattler?", I yelled. "Yep!" But it turned out to be two bull snakes mating. Ray had just completed building a very nice herpetorium, hoping to get a couple of rattlers, but decided bull snakes would be fine. He tied off one leg of his spare jeans and inserted the snakes. After catching and releasing some very nice browns, we headed home. As Ray walked walked into the house with the jeans, Sharon (his wife) asked what he had, and Ray said he had caught the biggest trout we had ever seen. Sharon got all excited and put her face very close, as a snake head popped out of the jeans. Two screaming women grabbed the kids, tore over to the neighbors' house, opened the door, went in, slammed the door, locked it, and we heard 'You two are on your own for dinner!"