It was a beautiful Friday and I had taken the day off work to take the boy fishing for his first time. Tequila decides to tag along too so we go to the store, get her a license and a rod and reel that she thinks is pretty, and head to the park where they have a nice little pond. I get everyone set up and teaching the boy how to cast with bait and look over at TM working on getting a worm out of the container. Poke, poke, jump. Poke, wiggle fingers. Poke poke poke, wiggle fingers. Quickly pick up a worm, move hand around like she’s holding a hot coal, drop worm. Poke at worm. Me: “uhhh… would you like some help there”? TM: “That would be nice”.
Finally everyone is in the water. A short while later, she’s nonchalantly reeling in her line, bored but enjoying the day. Me: *“Hey, whatcha doing”? *TM: *“Something’s wrong. I can’t see my bobber so I’m gonna see if it fell off… and… HEY!! Something’s wiggling! I think I have a fish”! *Me: <groan>. Yup, a nice channel cat. She brings it up, I grab it and hold it out to her. TM: “ewwwww… you take the hook out, I don’t wanna get stuck by the hook and the spiny thingies I’ve heard about”. Reset her, and a little later, Me: *“Your bobber just went down”. *TM: *looking around frantically, not moving, look of panic. *Me: *“You might want to pick up your rod”. *TM: “Ooo…yeah”! squealing, she eventually brings in another nice channel cat.
Finally get the hook out, and her line again reset, and she casts out again and manages to birds nest her spinning reel. After helping the boy out with a snag, I pull her line in, cut the nest out, and work on getting her re-tied. She is arranging her big-ass straw hat, complete with bows and flowers, and observes that my bobber is gone. I look over in time to see it pop to the surface, with no fish attached. TM: “Got away huh? Aren’t you supposed to pay attention to your bobber like you said? Hurry up with my line would ya…Isn’t that a Trilene knot? I think I saw that in a magazine”. She has transformed from dainty girl who should be at an outdoor dinner party to a female version of Steve Irwin with a crazed look in her eye. She’s now crawling around on the rocks, bent over on all fours, in her dress, to cast under the dock and pier, jumping across rocks by the waterfall, etc.
Meanwhile, I’m no longer fishing. I’m roaming the pond between her and the boy, freeing snags, fixing bird nested lines, delivering bait, etc. Then I look over at her after hearing an evil laugh to see a wild look of a triumphant warrior. Yup, another one. Give the rod to the boy, who is thrilled and scared to death at feeling a fish on a line. A REALLY nice catfish. Son: *“Wow daddy! Mommy really knows how to fish! I’m gonna have mommy teach me to catch fish, cuz you haven’t caught anything”! *Me: “Go away boy, you bother me”. TM: “It’d be nice if you caught one too dear, then we’ll have a nice dinner tonight”! Me: “Shut up… I’ll get you a new worm”. TM: “It’s okay, I already got one… Move will ya? I wanna get down on that rock”.
Later, back on the pier, we are all lined up, and the daughter sneaks up, grabs brother’s rod and quickly chucks it over the side into the pond. Quickly reeling my line in, I make the 1 in 1000 cast, landing my hook right behind his bobber which is just starting to go under as the rod sinks, snag the line and save his rod. I’m his hero again. Then an elderly lady shows up and starts chatting with me. As I’m talking, I look down to see my bobber slowly resurface. TM walks up just then…“Hey, it went down about three times while you weren’t looking. I thought you were using some type of strategy on the fish… <giggle>”. Son: “Gee daddy, that’s another fish that you weren’t able to catch. You aren’t very good at fishing.” Yup, time to go home. First we have to go to the store to buy some previously frozen catfish to complete dinner. Son: “Gee daddy, if you could catch fish like mommy, we wouldn’t have to buy fish anymore would we?.. I didn’t catch any cuz I’m new at fishing, so I missed all the bites I had…just like you… but you are good at catching fishing poles and sticks”.
Over a nice fish dinner, TM offers the opinion that perhaps we need some more fishing rods, her own tackle box (which I’m sure will be color co-ordinated with a new fishing outfit) and maybe go fishing again this Sunday and make a whole day of it.
I’ll make a redneck outta her yet:)
And somehow I must figure a way to re-establish with my son that I AM the hunter-gatherer!
