The catch of her life
There are many childhood memories that I cherish, but one that stands out most is going on fishing trips with my family. I’ll never forget the first time my dad and grandpa taught me , and the enthusiastic look on their face when I caught my first trout. Since then, I’ve longed for the day I could teach my own child, the way they taught me. It was two months shy of my daughters fifth birthday, and the weather was starting to warm up. Our local fishing lake had their “Trout season” sign up, and I couldn't have been more excited to finally teach my daughter how to fish.
It was an early Sunday morning , and I could remember the day like it was yesterday.
The sun had just begun to rise, my daughter was still asleep, as I packed an ice chest full of snacks and water bottles, our chairs, and sweaters just in case it gets a bit chilly. Once everything was packed and ready to go, my daughter woke up full of joy and excitement, ready to learn how to catch “fishies”. I lathered her in sun block until she was as pale as a ghost.
We stopped at Wal-Mart to buy her first fishing pole, and as soon as we walked into the fishing aisle, she instantly spotted the one she wanted, it was pink and purple with a barbie sticker on it. She had the biggest smile on her face as we waited in line to purchase it. We also bought a cup of worms to use as bait. I waited to open the cup and show her what was inside until we got to the park. As we waited in the line full of cars to get into the park, I began reminiscing about the times I was her age, everything still looked the same. …show more content…
The same run down booth where you purchase your pass, the same willow trees draping over the lake like lengthy strands of hair, and the same smell, like a mixture of carne asada being barbequed, and the trout we were going to attempt to catch. I searched for spots near where I remember catching fish, as If they were good luck spots. The trees that were there, were now enormous, and provided the perfect amount of shade. As I set up our chairs, my daughter stood patiently, watching the trout jump out of the water and calling for the ducks so she could feed them the pieces of stale bread that we brought from home. Her pole was ready to go, just needed to add the bait, I sat her down and opened the cup of worms, the same pungent smell reeked as I shook the worms around to show her, she looked petrified and repugnant. I knew it wouldn't be long before she was hooking the worms on herself. After about two hours of me helping her, I sat back and watched her as she hooked the worms herself, and threw in the line. As I sat and watched, I kept thinking about my dad and grandpa. I got the chills, thinking about how they felt as they watched me. They must have felt as proud as I do now. Just as we were packing up to leave, I saw in the corner of my eye her little pink pole jerking. I yelled, and
There are many childhood memories that I cherish, but one that stands out most is going on fishing trips with my family. I’ll never forget the first time my dad and grandpa taught me , and the enthusiastic look on their face when I caught my first trout. Since then, I’ve longed for the day I could teach my own child, the way they taught me. It was two months shy of my daughters fifth birthday, and the weather was starting to warm up. Our local fishing lake had their “Trout season” sign up, and I couldn't have been more excited to finally teach my daughter how to fish.
It was an early Sunday morning , and I could remember the day like it was yesterday.
The sun had just begun to rise, my daughter was still asleep, as I packed an ice chest full of snacks and water bottles, our chairs, and sweaters just in case it gets a bit chilly. Once everything was packed and ready to go, my daughter woke up full of joy and excitement, ready to learn how to catch “fishies”. I lathered her in sun block until she was as pale as a ghost.
We stopped at Wal-Mart to buy her first fishing pole, and as soon as we walked into the fishing aisle, she instantly spotted the one she wanted, it was pink and purple with a barbie sticker on it. She had the biggest smile on her face as we waited in line to purchase it. We also bought a cup of worms to use as bait. I waited to open the cup and show her what was inside until we got to the park. As we waited in the line full of cars to get into the park, I began reminiscing about the times I was her age, everything still looked the same. …show more content…
The same run down booth where you purchase your pass, the same willow trees draping over the lake like lengthy strands of hair, and the same smell, like a mixture of carne asada being barbequed, and the trout we were going to attempt to catch. I searched for spots near where I remember catching fish, as If they were good luck spots. The trees that were there, were now enormous, and provided the perfect amount of shade. As I set up our chairs, my daughter stood patiently, watching the trout jump out of the water and calling for the ducks so she could feed them the pieces of stale bread that we brought from home. Her pole was ready to go, just needed to add the bait, I sat her down and opened the cup of worms, the same pungent smell reeked as I shook the worms around to show her, she looked petrified and repugnant. I knew it wouldn't be long before she was hooking the worms on herself. After about two hours of me helping her, I sat back and watched her as she hooked the worms herself, and threw in the line. As I sat and watched, I kept thinking about my dad and grandpa. I got the chills, thinking about how they felt as they watched me. They must have felt as proud as I do now. Just as we were packing up to leave, I saw in the corner of my eye her little pink pole jerking. I yelled, and