Yesterday was a big day for the curly-haired dynamo. She hauled in her very first fish, a small large-mouth bass caught at a reservoir just south of our house. She was all smiles and high-fives for the rest of the morning. She wouldn’t even take her eyes off the fish for a photo.
We’ve been fishing several times this summer as a family. It is one of my favorite ways to spend a morning together. The three of us, a quiet spot by the lake and fishing poles is a recipe for pure bliss.
Of course, our spot doesn’t stay quiet for long when Wyokiddo is in tow. Armed with her red Mickey Mouse fishing pole and 1,000 questions, she’ll fish and chat her way through an entire morning.
“What kind of bird is that?”
“Do seagulls eat bananas?”
“Mama, I’m going to tell you a story. One time, I took Uncle Bill fishing. He had a blue fishing pole and I had a pink fishing pole. And we caught a WHALE!”
We don’t catch a lot of fish. This summer our total haul that we’ve kept has been a handful of crappie and two walleye. But I wouldn’t trade these moments by the water for a freezer of fish. I love that we are teaching Wyokiddo a skill and sharing this piece of our souls with her. I enjoy watching Outdoor Guy patiently helping our daughter cast or bait her hook. My heart overflows with love and emotion as Wyokiddo sits in my lap, chattering non-stop as we watch the red-and-white bobber rise and fall with the swell of the waves. It feels good to be outside, together, released from electronic tethers and expectations.
The fact that Wyokiddo finally caught her a fish…well that’s just gravy.