It was a very productive weekend, with lots of Andy Griffith-style family time. We all learned something.
- Finn learned how to cast a line with a pointy hook on the end
- Kitty and I learned to duck and cover our faces whenever he did
- Finn learned about all of the different kinds of fish that you can catch in a pond
- I learned that the only thing that Finn wants to know about the fish in the pond are whether there are any blue ones
- Finn learned how to sit still and enjoy the peace and quiet of fishing
- Uncle Rob and I learned that a four year old only enjoys the peace and quiet of fishing for about 3 minutes before trying to use all nearby fishing lines like limbo poles at a drunken Caribbean beach party
And we all (re)learned that fish don't jump at the opportunity to eat the first thing you throw in the water, particularly when they've been getting aggressively hunted all weekend by fifty 4-12 year olds screaming around a small pond. Even when your bait is some sort of genetically engineered super-fish-food purchased at the local country store by four adults too lazy to dig for worms.
They also don't eat it the second through one hundred and seventy-third time you throw it in the water. Whatever. I'm pretty sure that I would've whimpered like a little girl if I had to unhook and/or clean an actual fish, given that I haven't actually caught/cleaned a fish since I was twelve years old, and that would not have impressed my son. I'm going to have to practice with some live test fish before we go up again.
I hope they let me bring my pole into the grocery store.
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