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I am convinced if I were a gambler, I’d be addicted, so I’ve managed to stay away from gambling. I know this because there are activities, which bring out the gambler in me.

Fishing is one of them, I’m convinced the big one is waiting to be caught and toying with my line, as one more cast turns into, an all day event. Last April, during spring break, in Clearwater, the boys and I fished from the moment we got up, to nightfall, without catching anything worth eating.

When we lived on a lake, my babies naps were fishing times for Momma. I fished with a baby monitor tucked in my back pocket. I circled the lake in my john boat every fifteen minutes, and pointed the monitor towards the house. If there was no red light, I crossed the lake and returned to fishing. If I was really in the zone, when they awakened, I put the baby gate over the gazebo door, threw in some toys, and a sprinkling of snacks, and fished off the dock.

During our mountain vacation, I became addicted to rock hunting, in the rivers of the Smokey Mountains. I spent hours, looking for rocks, while the boys played in the water. I know if I was living during the gold rush, I’d be right alongside the men panning for gold. Jay laughs at me, but he won’t be laughing when I find a gold rock and make the man a billionaire.

Yesterday, with our  home school, the boys and I went on a fossil dig. We plopped down with our shovels and bags, on a pile of hot fossils and dug. I was in heaven. Overall, the boys enjoyed it, but showed moments of weakness. Nicklaus wanted to leave because he hadn’t found any shark teeth. I told him, “You can’t leave defeated.” Christian said, “It’s hot!” I said, “Imagine your an archaeologist and a raptor is under this pile.” Colin laid out over the rocks and told me, “I’m so thirsty! I’m dying!”  Without looking up from my hunt, I said, “Drink your sweat!”

No, I really didn’t say this, but I thought it. I was glass eyed and addicted, on the dig for the biggest shark teeth. “Just a little longer.” Spout from my lips like a gusher.

Before long, I looked up to make sure the boys were still alive, and found all the families gone, except one mother. She, like me, forgot she had children. Figuring I would never leave, the boys dug and compared their specimens.

Since they were enjoying themselves, I thought of a way I could continue through the night. I’d need a flashlight to keep working, and sleeping bags for the boys, and a little water, so Colin didn’t dehydrate further. He was now sprawled out over the rocks, face deep in a hole. I was so proud, he’d forgotten his thirst and was now plugged in…literally.

Our host walked over and collected our shovels, but I didn’t allow that to dissuade me. I told the boys, “Let’s use our hands!” I looked over at the mom next to me, and suggested we conduct home school on the rock pile next week. She laughed, as if I was kidding.

Finally, as the sun set behind us, I remembered my husband awaited our return, a good man whom I wouldn’t want another woman to steal, while I was in rehab. So, I brushed myself off, picked the boys off the ground, and drove home.

Yes, I probably shouldn’t gamble.