While we were in Brevard Uncle Alvin said he would really like to take the boys fishing for the first time. So after several phone calls he found a trout farm where we could go and give it a try.
My dad took me fishing a lot as a child and I have several good memories of he and I together laughing over the little brim fish we would catch.
It is kind of a right of passage, I believe. Although, my children were guaranteed a fish since it was a trout farm. I recall sitting for very long periods of time at a lake or by the creek waiting for fish. Not to mention digging for my own worms and baiting my own hook. I would say trout farm and corn kernals is getting off easy.
However, he quickly decided fishing was not for him. He was acutely aware of the hook in the fishes mouth and the subsequent passing away of the fish so he and Aunt Jan decided to sit on the dock and just watch.
Ethan, on the other hand, loved learning how to cast, how to watch the bobber and then how to reel the line in.
Eliza kept an eye on our bucket for us. Yes, the fish were flopping around in the bucket (like a fish out of water, so to speak) and the bucket would tip around. She just kept looking at it like "what in the world???"