Fishing with Big Papa

If there's one thing I think of when I think of my Dad, it's fishing. There is something very familiar about my Dad, this man I barely knew growing up and whom I barely see or talk to even now. My memories of my Dad consist mostly of fishing, cards, pawn shop and thrift stores and the sweet smell of pipe tobacco.

Yesterday while I was laying in bed, trying to catch up on sleep that escaped me the night before, I looked at my phone to check the time and saw at that very moment my Dad was calling. Normally I would have missed the call because my phone is on silent at night. So, I answered the phone and he had asked if I wanted to go fishing with him and the kids. Knowing I really had nothing at all on my schedule, I agreed to the possibility of being able to get the kids up and present to fish in one hour's time.

I hustled to get the kids up and prepare some snacks. My kids are both like me when it comes to culinary needs. I knew that if there wasn't something to snack on (for ALL of us, mostly ME), things would get cranky REAL fast. It was a perfect morning to fish and be outside. As my Dad sat in his fishing chair, smoking his pipe, wearing his all-too worn overall jeans (that are another story in themselves), I untangled half the lake's share of moss from the kid's fishing lines as my Dad and I laughed and joked, reminisced and made fun of each other.



It wasn't long before he caught a catfish on the line. We had to pull it through a bunch of moss, but the cool part was that he let TJ reel it in. TJ hasn't ever caught a fish before, so he thought he was pretty cool to be able to reel a fish in. We didn't stay on that side of the lake much longer as the kids were getting obviously impatient and I was spending a majority of my time taking moss off their lines and untangling their poles.

We decided to trek to the other side of the lake. After a few casts, a parks & rec employee stopped by to check the water level of the very full lake, and advised us to try dropping our lines just off the dock instead of casting out. After doing that, maybe 10 minutes later, we caught another catfish. This one, I reeled in most of, but he was strong and by the looks of him, I would have sworn it was a distant cousin of Jaws. After pulling him up with the net and reaffirming to myself why I don't swim in lakes, we had our second catfish on the stringer and were on the hunt for one more. Yes, I'm fishing in a dress. Yes, the fish is bleeding. And yes, it grossed me out.



Long story short, we caught 3 catfish and brought them home to clean. What I did NOT know is that my Dad was planning to not just show me how to clean a catfish, but teach me. Translation: I was doing it. I don't do well with murder, even when it's little spiders and cockroaches that I HATE. So slicing into a fish that is still alive, gills breathing and gasping for air while it's mouth mutters "MOM.....MOM", it was not the easiest task for me. BUT....I did it and consequently, made supper for what we will be eating tonight. The pic is kinda sick, but I'm pretty proud of myself for actually doing it. Check it out...



Overall, it was a great memory and a fun morning to spend with my Dad. Those moments don't happen very often and when they do, they often time seem rushed. The kids enjoyed themselves and I'd have to say, I think it was a pretty special morning for my Dad as well.