Forming of a Fisherman

If any of you reading this blog know my husband, one thing you will know about him is that he loves all things outdoors...particularly hunting and fishing. He gleaned this love from his Father who may love all things outdoors even more than Josh does. Therefore, to both these wonderful men it is necessary that this love be passed down to younger generations. There is no age requirement to begin cultivating this love of nature, dirt, sweat, gear, and wildlife. If you are of the male gender it is only natural that it begin when you are old enough to hold a pole in your hand. The only requirements are the following: 1) You understand a pole belongs in the hand and not in the water. 2) You can recognize that the magical hook on the end of the pole will eventually produce a fish. Apparently Jude has met these requirements for this weekend marked his introduction to fishing.

For about 20 minutes Jude sat in Pop's lap enraptured by the process which entailed throwing a yellow bobber with a wriggling worm on the end into the water, waiting for several minutes (in which Jude said Fiiishy! numerous times) till a flopping fish is pulled up to the dock. The first few times this occurred, Jude approached the fish with caution, until about the 5th time where he boldy grabbed the fish with his chubby little hand. At one point, Pop let Jude take the reigns. Understanding the concept that one must throw the line into the water in order to catch a fish, he proceeded to mimic that process Jude style, which entailed slapping the tip of the pole violently in the water all the while saying Fiiishy. Naturally this did not produce any wriggling fish on the end of his pole, but that it was it Jude was hooked.


Every good fisherman needs a takle box.


Waiting patiently for the fish to come.



We got one!


ffiiishy!


Jude and his 1st fish.


Chubby cheeks


Micah immitating Jude's life jacket chub.


Masked Fascination


Help! Help!