Fishing

I've been fishing before. twice. I went with my dad once when I was little. He took a long boooooring nap while I held the fishing pole and he wouldn't even let me swim because it would "scare away all the fish". We sat there doing nothing all day and never caught a darn thing.
I went fishing again when I was in college with a guy who, I found out that day, liked me A LOT more than I liked him. Which made for a very awkward, very long, very boooooring day. Again, not a bite.

I have despised fishing ever since.

But deep in my heart of hearts I have always known that boys and fishing (no matter how boring I think it is) are meant for each other. So when Mark suggested we go fishing I actually smiled at the thought. And the boys, of course, were ecstatic. So after a night of last minute preparations - (thanks Mark for your middle-of-the-night Walmart run to get fishing licenses, bait, tackle, and snacks and for staying up half the night packing the car and loading the boat and thanks to Jenny for tolerating it all. with a newborn. you are a champ!) -

we were off to the lake the next morning.


It was awesome. . .


beautiful. . .


and anything but boring.


Because it turns out that fishing actually requires some expertise.


And unlike my previous fishing failures, Mark knew exactly what to do.


He found the sweet spot for catching fish.


Then let the boys take turns reeling them in.


And before we knew it, they had eight fish on a line.


I was amazed.


Even Eliza got in on the action.


After she was done unpacking all the bags.


And swimming? Who says there's no swimming in fishing.


The kids fished from everywhere. . .


bait or no bait.


And loved every single. . .


second of it.


So thanks Mark for introducing my boys to the love of their life, for salvaging the very notion of fishing for me, and giving us quite possibly the most memorable day of our entire vacation.

Because now when it comes to fishing. . .

we're all hooked!

.