Henry and Svea had their first fishing experiences in the early mornings last week.
Henry even baited his own hook with those gross plastic worm things BY HIMSELF which was key.
Svea just liked turning the crank thing on the fishing pole. Whatever that's called. Help with vocab, Uncle Johnnie?
It was unbelievably hot, even in the wee hours, so we never stayed long.
What was awesome was when Henry would bound into the house on our return to tell our sleepy friends that he had fished and he found a "honey hole." Thank you for THAT bit of vocab, Uncle Johnnie.
The fishing made Brian and me a little nostalgic in surprising ways. We would start naming all the people in our family trees who had even held a fishing pole and then get the kids to say their names. Our lame parenting attempts to keep our kids connected, I guess.
I don't care though. It was wonderful. Even if we never caught a fish.
2 comments:
Here's my new song for the day:
"I wish I was a fish, swim around all day
Eat ,sleep, drink, have nothin' to say
I'll swim up in the deepest, darkest honey hole,
and wait for ole' fisherman, n his fishing pole
He'd throw me shiners, chunks of cheese
little chicken livers mister, if you please
but you won't catch me, I know I'll hear you say,
"you shoulda seen ol' whiskers, the big one got away."
love the connections you are making.
oh we are so very proud!!!
makes uncle johnnie smile ear to ear....:)
xoxo
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