Again my choice came down to grasshoppers or butterflies. I settled on the pink-headed grasshopper. Watching all the grasshoppers today, I was reminded of growing up as a child in Texas. My dad would want to go fishing and would send us out to collect grasshoppers for bait. We would gather up enough to fill a small Parkay tub--after being distracted by our own pursuit of horny toads--and then Dad would take us to the Concho River for fishing. We were never very patient--we would talk, giggle, throw rocks, and ask a million times if he was finished and if we could go home. He would quietly try to do some fishing, but would eventually relent and take us home. I wonder now if he ever slipped off to fish alone.