Today I’ve decided to tell you why I hate fishing. No, better than that, I’ll SHOW you why I hate fishing!
I don’t know what I was thinking- maybe that we were fishing for pets?? I certainly don’t remember!
All I know is: My Daddy KILLED my fish!!
And I was traumatized! And to this day, I still hate to fish. But that has never stopped you from tearing up some fried mullet, or catfish, has it?? Nope!! Those fish on my plate are not Freddy (May he RIP)!! They come from the kitchen, or the store or somewhere. They didn’t innocently eat my worm, and be murdered!, right in front of me.
In an effort to not poison my girls, for life, I agreed to go fishing with them. BUT!! I made Dad promise “No head cutting off of fish in front of the girls.”
They look like they’re having fun, don’t they? I even baited hooks for them. That’s not the part that bothers me. Look! I’m even smiling! But ya sure don’t see me with a line in the water, now do ya?? NOPE! Ain’t happening!
(I have such cute babies, don’t I?? Never mind that now they are both grown adults! They are still both my cute babies!)
DD1 sure looks happy, and proud of herself!! And Grandmama is proud of her too!! And then the fishy went back to his family, and we all lived happily ever after!
(I know fishing is an excellent survival skill to have. I’ll be grateful to know how, if I ever get stranded on a desert island. Which, btw, is HIGHLY unlikely, since I like boating just as much as I like fishing!! I’ve made it a long term life goal to never have to do either one ever again! But, if the worst happens, sure hope I have my babies with me! At least I’ll stay fed!!)