While out enjoying the crisp November air out on the Delta with my wife, her parents and of course, young Mr. Brody, we took in a little fishing, something Jen and I don't do much of.
I've only fished a few times, and had only caught a fish once. But I think I was asleep most of the time, so I can't really take credit for it.
This time, I was wide awake and actually caught a fish without too much trouble. It was too small, so back in the drink it went. Having tried to catch a fish and succeeded, I was pretty satisfied.
Jen was really enjoying herself. She gave us -- and her dad, especially -- a running total of her haul. Brody even helped on one, holding the net.
We didn't really need the net, but that's what Brody thought fishing was all about, so he was our netter.
All told, Jen's tally included 10 fish and a clam. All 10 fish (and a clam) were too small, alas, so Jen didn't have a tasty fish dinner as a result of her efforts.
I was standing around sucking up the oxygen (as I often do) while Jen and her dad were fishing. Her dad handed me his fishing rod and said, "Here, hold this."
So like a dummy, that's what I did. After the rod bent and bowed enough times that I noticed, I realized, "Oh, there's a fish. Reel it in."
So I did.
And that was the fish that Jen had for dinner. I had provided a meal for my wife. I felt very Charles Ingalls-y. Maybe next time I can go fishing for something I actually eat, like bacon or Cheez Doodles.