One of my favorite memories from growing up is when I would go fishing with my dad and brother. It was such a great way to spend time as a family, as well as a special way for me to bond with the boys.
We’d gather all our fishing gear and tackle early in the morning, making sure our boxes were filled with bobbers and hooks. After a stop at the bait shop, our favorite spot next to the water of the lake would be found where we could sit on a giant rock and just sit and wait while listening to the sounds of the water splash by.
I didn’t even mind the worm.
Then, it would happen. The bobber would sink, the line would tug. And I’d excitedly reel my catch in, slowly as to not let it go. Sometimes, it was nothing more than seaweed. I remember one time even latching on to a shoe. But there were a lot of fish, too.
I don’t like to brag, but I always caught more fish than anyone else. Though we always set them free, to watch them swim away again. We weren’t there for dinner, it was just the experience and enjoying the time together.
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