Henry Abel’s son, David, burst into the house, crying like everything.
His Mama asked him what the problem was.
“Pop and I were fishing, and he hooked a giant fish. Really big. Then, while reeling it in, the line busted and the fish got away.”
“Now come on, David,” his mother said, “a big boy like you shouldn’t be crying about an accident like that. You should have laughed.”
“That”s what I did, Mama.”