Yessy, Yessy, YES!
Yessy, Yessy, YES!
By Allan Olson
This weekend flew by for me and likely, many others. I finally got a chance to venture out on that lake outside my backdoor . . . at least for a few hours.
My oldest brother arrived with his family and, of course, his boat, late Sunday afternoon. He was ready to fish.
My youngest daughter, Alivia, was adamant about going fishing, too, and there was no convincing her otherwise. “I want to fish,” she pleaded to her uncle and me.
“We will have to check with the other kids to see who wants to go,” I said, explaining that, being the youngest of the seven kids, she might have to stay at home.
The other kids all declined to venture out on the lake with us.
“Are you sure, you want to go?” I asked, thinking perhaps my brothers and I could sneak out sans kids.
“Yessy, yessy, yes!” she persisted, stating that she wanted to fish.
I relented, and sent her with my youngest brother to retrieve her life jacket and an ice fishing pole. I wasn’t going to take the chance that she would send one of our good poles overboard.
She was excited as could be to go fishing – until we got out on the water.
Armed with her fishing pole, she practiced her reeling techniques on the pole. I would wager a small bet that this particular pole had never been reeled so many times in such a short span.
“I want to go back now,” she said after less than 30 minutes on the lake. “It’s taking too long.”
“No, we aren’t going back yet,” I told her.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she said, and I quickly realized that this was her new favorite phrase to use.
“I think I got something,” she said, reeling in her line once again.
“No, you don’t,” I said.
“I fish by you,” she said, trying to drag her line out of the water and over to my side of the boat.
“Now do I got a fish?” she asked again.
“No,” I replied. “Will you sit still?” as once again she was moving her little body and trying to navigate my brother’s small boat like it was grandpa’s pontoon.
“No,” she said. “I want to, but I don’t. I got to be by Uncle Tony,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder.
A minute later, she was moving again.
Then she decided she was going to drive the boat.
She was having fun, climbing up and down on his lap, moving the steering wheel all the time.
Then I, for some silly reason, mentioned that he was actually steering the boat with his foot. That’s when the fight started over the trolling motor control. She wanted to use that, too.
My youngest brother and I could do nothing but laugh at the three-year old trying to get the controls from her uncle; she wanted to be the captain of the boat.
Of course, he deserved her harassment after he “kissed” her with a small perch. “Ewww,” she said, after she got over the initial shock.
The fight over the trolling motor didn’t last long. He won, and she went back to the steering wheel, reeling, and letting out her line, thinking she had a fish every 10 seconds or so.
The fishing trip would have been very peaceful if it wasn’t for the antics of my daughter. It also would not have been nearly as much fun.
There is just something special about taking a kid fishing (as long as it’s not too many at the same time.)
By Allan Olson
This weekend flew by for me and likely, many others. I finally got a chance to venture out on that lake outside my backdoor . . . at least for a few hours.
My oldest brother arrived with his family and, of course, his boat, late Sunday afternoon. He was ready to fish.
My youngest daughter, Alivia, was adamant about going fishing, too, and there was no convincing her otherwise. “I want to fish,” she pleaded to her uncle and me.
“We will have to check with the other kids to see who wants to go,” I said, explaining that, being the youngest of the seven kids, she might have to stay at home.
The other kids all declined to venture out on the lake with us.
“Are you sure, you want to go?” I asked, thinking perhaps my brothers and I could sneak out sans kids.
“Yessy, yessy, yes!” she persisted, stating that she wanted to fish.
I relented, and sent her with my youngest brother to retrieve her life jacket and an ice fishing pole. I wasn’t going to take the chance that she would send one of our good poles overboard.
She was excited as could be to go fishing – until we got out on the water.
Armed with her fishing pole, she practiced her reeling techniques on the pole. I would wager a small bet that this particular pole had never been reeled so many times in such a short span.
“I want to go back now,” she said after less than 30 minutes on the lake. “It’s taking too long.”
“No, we aren’t going back yet,” I told her.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she said, and I quickly realized that this was her new favorite phrase to use.
“I think I got something,” she said, reeling in her line once again.
“No, you don’t,” I said.
“I fish by you,” she said, trying to drag her line out of the water and over to my side of the boat.
“Now do I got a fish?” she asked again.
“No,” I replied. “Will you sit still?” as once again she was moving her little body and trying to navigate my brother’s small boat like it was grandpa’s pontoon.
“No,” she said. “I want to, but I don’t. I got to be by Uncle Tony,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder.
A minute later, she was moving again.
Then she decided she was going to drive the boat.
She was having fun, climbing up and down on his lap, moving the steering wheel all the time.
Then I, for some silly reason, mentioned that he was actually steering the boat with his foot. That’s when the fight started over the trolling motor control. She wanted to use that, too.
My youngest brother and I could do nothing but laugh at the three-year old trying to get the controls from her uncle; she wanted to be the captain of the boat.
Of course, he deserved her harassment after he “kissed” her with a small perch. “Ewww,” she said, after she got over the initial shock.
The fight over the trolling motor didn’t last long. He won, and she went back to the steering wheel, reeling, and letting out her line, thinking she had a fish every 10 seconds or so.
The fishing trip would have been very peaceful if it wasn’t for the antics of my daughter. It also would not have been nearly as much fun.
There is just something special about taking a kid fishing (as long as it’s not too many at the same time.)
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