Last night was warm and perfect for fishing if you're amatuers like us. We trounced down to the dock around 5:30. The neighbor hollered and asked if I was catching dinner. I laughed and said I just hoped we caught something. Caiden toted the white plastic bowl with the holes in the lid that she grabbed off the counter at the local gas station/grocery store/restaurant/tackle & bait shop earlier. I thought that was cute that she was going to fish with worms. She held them close to her in one hand and in the other was her pink Barbie fishing pole. I followed along with my pole and the little pink tackle box that matches her fishing pole.
We set up on the edge of the dock and I made sure all the hooks and bobbers worked. And then she dug into the cool, damp dirt that filled the plastic bowl. The squiggly worms were all cornered on the bottom which meant she and I were covered in dirt before we got the worms out. She was good with snagging them, she was not good with piercing them to her hook. So I took on that job. Once she was all set, she cast out about 5 feet and waited for the bobber to be drug underwater. Too cute.
I cast out and tried to remember where my fishing license was. About 20 minutes and 100 worms later, she screamed because a fish about the size of my little hand had grabbed a hold of her worm. She danced around, screeching and crying and wanting me to take the pole. So after making her hold it until I could reel mine in, I reached down and pulled out a flopping little thing that I would assume was a crappie or a blue gill. Anybody reading this who knows the difference between the two can feel free to let me know. The locals assured me that this was all we would find near the shore. All I know was that if skinned and cooked, it wouldn't qualify as an appetizer much less a meal. And my hysterical daughter had me laughing until I cried. After I unhooked it and threw it back, she decided that she could indeed put the worm on and that became her new job.
Casting out another 5 feet, she was very excited about fishing again. Less than 2 minutes later, a slightly bigger fish snagged her worm and the screeching began again. This tough little sucker wouldn't let go of the darn hook and I practically had to stick my fingers in its mouth to get it out. At the same time, all I'm hearing is "Mommy! Mommy! Get it out! Get it out!" By this time, the full moon was up and I hadn't caught a thing. But I did get two great pictures of my little fishergirl standing with her pole in her oustretched hand as far away as possible with the silver little fish dangling and twisting from the end.
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