Today for Father’s Day, I’m planning to take Mr. Grey fishing. This may or may not work out given the weather forecast and Mr. Grey’s attention span.
If the weather cooperates, the day will go something like this: We’ll have some breakfast after he tells me he wants to watch TV. Next, we’ll struggled to get him dressed, again because he’ll want to watch TV. Then I’ll pack the car and we’ll drive to one of the local parks.
We’ll get set up to fish, and I’ll have to keep him from going into the water. I probably won’t succeed in that. If we’re lucky, we’ll catch a fish quickly and he’ll want to keep fishing. If not, he’ll hunt for frogs and turtles, and I’ll try to fish, but it’ll be unsuccessful because I’ll have to keep him from going into the water.
Sounds, kinda bleak, but it will be fun for him even if it’s not a whole lot of fun for me. And that’s what counts.
I remember the first time my Dad took me fishing. I was about 5 years old and Frank was about 3. My brother and I were watching TV on a Saturday morning when he appeared in the living room and announced that we were going fishing. Now, I wanted to go fishing, but I was keenly aware of some impediments to the plan, which I vocalized.
“But, we don’t have licenses,” I said.
“You don’t need a license because you’re a boy,” he said.
“We don’t have bait,” I said.
“We’ll get some on the way.”
“We don’t have fishing rods,” I said.
“You don’t?” And just then, Dad produced a pair of fishing rods from behind his back. Being a 5 year old, I hadn’t noticed that he’d been holding the rods behind his back the whole time.
I was over joyed. A random present and we were going fishing. I have no recollection of the actual fishing trip, but I suspect that Dad didn’t get much fishing in that day and he probably spent a lot of time keeping me and my brother out of the water.
Being a dad isn’t always about having fun, but it’s almost always about making sure your child is having fun.