Dad and son(s) bonding...

I kept hearing it over and over. It was as if I was deaf or didn’t understand. It was if I was in another room and was doing something that kept my attention. It was as if I just wasn’t listening. Really, I was. I was thinking about a response. I was thinking about the logistics of the whole matter. I was trying to wrap my mind around the activity and I wondered if it was time or not.

Kath and I discussed it away from William. We talked about the where and the when. Then we discussed my licensing. And we decided that since the weather would cooperate it would be this Saturday.

I looked at the forecast and concluded it was the right day.

I went out to the garage and located the dirty old yellow cooler that lacked a top. I slid the cooler from underneath the gray metal cabinet. The sliding noise was familiar as it scraped across the smooth concrete floor. Inside of the cooler was dark green box with a beige handle. I lifted the box out of the cooler exposing other elements under. A mesh net with rusted wire and a handle was the first item I saw. I picked it up exposing a knife in a sheath. A spool was also in the cooler as was a flat plastic measuring device that had a built in clamp.

From around the van I heard William ask, “Dad where are you?” I didn’t want to answer; I wanted it to be a surprise. I turned around and he saw me with the cooler. He asked, “What is that?” I was busted. I said, “A cooler.” He said, “It looks dirty. What’s it for?”

Okay, too many probing questions. I either lie to him or I tell him the truth. I deliberated for an instant and replied, “What have you been asking me to do?” Simple question right? Not so much. He couldn’t remember because the question was baited. So I reached up on top of the black metal lockers that stood next to the grey metal cabinet and I took down a box we’ve been saving in case we had to move. Upon placing it on the floor next to the yellow dingy cooler William was able to see what I was after.

He looked up and smiled really big. He said, “Are we?” “Are we really?” I nodded and handed him the fishing rods. He ran out in front of the van doing a happy dance. And I put the box back and followed behind him. I put the rods together and he was flipping it around making a high pitched sound that fishing rods make when you shake them fast.

I put some drinks in a soft cooler, four folding chairs, a cart to carry the chairs and cooler with the tackle box in it and then the van was loaded. Breandan and Kath joined us in the van and we left the house for our first stop, Wal-Mart. Like all states, it is illegal to fish without a license, so I bought one at Wal-Mart along with some night crawlers (worms).

Our next stop was Hungry Howie’s Pizza. For $8.88 you get a large one topping pizza and a “loaf” of garlic bread. Next we stopped at the pavilion up the street from the lake where we were going to fish. We sat in the shade of the pavilion and enjoyed a pizza picnic. The breeze and the temperature were ideal for a picnic or fishing. We spared no time consuming the pizza. Loaded the van back up and drove a few hundred feet to the bottom of the hill closer to the pier. We set up the gear and chairs. Then I tied the hooks onto the line, added a bobber and the worm. I casted out about ten yards and William was fishing. He watched as the bobber floated on the water. I rigged the other rod for myself and casted it into the water when I heard a little voice say, “my turn.” I handed the rod to Breandan and now both of my boys were fishing. I repeated the casting over and over to their delight until Breandan tired of the reeling exercise and passed the rod back to me. Kath took him to the nearby playground to swing, leaving William and me to our fishing excursion.

Time after time I casted the line for William, reluctant to watch him throw the rod and line into the water. He insisted over and over that he wanted to try to cast and so I allowed it. The first four times he couldn’t get the thumb action correct and on the fifth try the bobber went out into the water. He tried again and it went further, again and even farther until he had figured the casting out. I stopped watching him as his confidence had built to the point that he was actually doing very well.

It was time to go; nearly six o’clock and we had been there for almost four hours. We hadn’t caught anything but that didn’t matter, we had a great time.

I was so proud. I had gone fishing with my boys.

On the way back to the van I was whistling a familiar tune, I cannot describe it, but you all know it as the theme song to the Andy Griffith show.