My wife and I recently won the sweepstakes and decided to take a trip to a place where it only rains once a day.  Sometimes, it may rain every other day, but since I used to be a betting man, there is only one guarantee on an island other than the time: The fish is always fresh.

One of the most glorious and, to many others, seemingly meaningless pleasures in my wonderful world is ordering something off the menu without actually looking at the menu.  (I take the menu home later for leisurely bedtime reading.)

“What will you have to order?”

“The catch of the day.”

“How will you like it prepared?”

“However the chef prepares it.”

This is why I carry Benadryl in my wallet at all times preparing for uncomfortable and life threatening allergies.  If the fish is fresh, there is a slight chance, twenty minutes later after eating it, my throat may be shutting similar to the bars at Alcatraz, and my face may look similar to the puffer fish I may have consumed.  Either way, well worth it.

I do feel safe when my wife is with me to witness this production and keep her ” well charged” cell phone with her at all times in case 911 may come in handy.

Sometimes, I wonder if the catch of the day is the fish or my wife.  I’ll take the latter.