Last week, The KingofHearts decided The Shortlings needed valuable education in the art of feeding themselves in case of a Zombie Apocalypse, so he schemed with another guy friend we know to create a local fishing trip when they were off school on Labor Day.

The are some nice little fishing holes within thirty minutes or so of our house and while you can't necessarily bring in a ten pound bass there, it is a good place for little ones to learn.  Most of the fishing here, unless you have access to a boat and can get out in deeper water, is catch and release because the fish you can find are too small to keep.  But that was fine for our purposes that day in the gorgeous weather we got.

We brought our fishing gear, small poles for the kids, some lawn chairs, lunch and met the friend who said he "liked to fish" at the lake.  What I didn't realize is that his "like to fish" is different than most people's and he showed up with a giant tackle box, four fishing poles (for himself) and serious philosophies about fishing and how fish think.  And he'd only brought the bare minimum of his fishing gear for that day.  It turns out he takes fishing very. seriously. indeed.

We spent the first few minutes of the day showing the kids how to cast.  Eventually, they settled into their own rhythms and techniques.  The Caterpillar's preferred casting method was to lie the pole down on her chair, open the reel, then grab the end of the line and wade out thigh deep into the water.  Then she'd throw the bobber at the lake with all her might and walk back to the chair.  It's probably not a surprise that she didn't catch anything that day.

The Dormouse picked it up quickly - as she does most things.  Then she tired of it quickly - as she does most things.  So she walked over to our friend who "likes to fish," who had moved from casting to a large fly fishing rod and was working his magic with that.  She began asking him how that all worked.  

I looked over a minute later and realized he'd pulled out his second fly fishing reel and had given it to her.

"That's not gonna end well," I muttered to The KoH, and mentally prepared myself to smooth over his misjudgement and untangle line for the rest of the day as a good faith effort of friendship.

Now, I have wanted to learn to fly fish for decades.  I've spent a lot of days sitting by the lake in my lifetime and I feel like I know what I'm doing with a traditional fishing pole, even if I admittedly have a different philosophy about it that the KoH. (I dislike chasing the fish.  He wants to change locations every ten minutes he doesn't get a bite.  I want to sit on the bank and stare at the sky with a line in the water and maybe read a book or just think a lot, while I'm waiting for the fish to come to me.)  But in the matter of fly fishing, I've never been in a place where I both have someone to tell me how to do it and access to the equipment.  It's never ended well when I've experimented with it and I've never even tempted a fish to try to nibble on my bait in this fashion.  But that little snot pulled two fishes out of the water with that fly fishing reel ON HER FIRST DAY. 

On the one hand, I'm happy for her.  But on the other... come'on!