My son and I hit one of the local Bluegill pond for a few minutes last night. We only took fly rods this time. We were committed and he was excited. His mom told me as soon as he got off the bus that fishing was the first thing out of his mouth. Unfortunately we got a late start because his mom had gotten a flat tire on the riding mower earlier in the day and getting that silly little tire reseated on the rim and pumped up took longer than I thought after dinner.
When we did finally got to the pond, the bug activity looked promising and the fish looked active. I said I was going to tie on a dry fly, and he said, “yeah, I like dry flies.” I agreed and tied on a rubber legged ant with an easy to see bright orange orange hot spot.
After a few lickety-split false cast he fired off a fairly decent cast and the fly plopped on the water and promptly sank.
He looked over at me and said in a frustrated voice, “Dad! Did you gink it up?”
Sure enough I forgot the secret sauce. How bout that, my boy even remembered the Gink.
After another whippy cast, he promptly missed a big slow motion slurpy strike.
Last time we were out I missed a strike on a nice rise and said a few choice words. He looked over at me and gave me a look like I had REALLY done it. I said “it’s ok we’re fishing, you can say a few bad words when you’re fishing, especially when you miss a strike like that”
You can guess what he was up to last night when looked over at me and with a big grin on his face, said “Dad are we fishing?”
After a silent pause I said, “Yep.”
He responded back quickly, “SHIT!”.
He even got to pee on a tree, not a bad evening. He’s learning well.