My older son gave his dad an unusual homemade card for Father’s Day. On the front, he drew a pair of fishing poles. Inside he wrote: “How about some fishing?”
Fishing with the #1 son?!? That’s almost as rare as an audience with the Queen of England! The Mister is a lucky man, because we all know that the last thing our collegian wants to do is be outside with a fishing pole in his hand. He’d almost rather do chores. Almost.
So off we went in the early-evening hours last Sunday to one of the lakes in our master-planned community where the Mister and our younger son like to cast a lure or two occasionally.
At first, all that was caught was a filthy bag by the Mister. It seemed no one would have any luck.
But then our younger son reeled in the first fish of the evening.
And as quickly as he caught it, #2 took the hook out and threw the fish back in the lake. Catch and release is the rule, and we’re all too glad to abide by it (none of us wants to actually clean a fish . . . ick!).
The Mister was the next to snag scaly success.
It isn’t long between the catching and releasing (and the photo-taking), but it probably seems like an eternity to the wide-eyed fish.
Before we knew it, the Mister had caught and released another fish.
And another (although it was pretty tiny). Seemed fitting that he would catch the most fish, seeing as how it was Father’s Day.
The Mister, our #2 son, and I were rooting mightily that the older bubba also would catch a fish.
Alas and alack, #1, unfortunately, pitched a fishy shutout. But that didn’t matter at all to him really. He wanted to give his dad a special Father’s Day gift of time spent together doing something his dad loves to do; the act of fishing was totally secondary.
I’d say he hooked a whole mess of great memories.