When I was a little girl, my Grandpa took me fishing at a little pond on his farm. I don’t think we caught anything, and honestly don’t imagine my line even had a hook on it, but I do remember having a ball hanging out with my Grandpa and feeling (at least a little bit) grown up.
When Hubby, Little Guy and I went to Kentucky for our vacation over Memorial Day (to see my Grandma), my parents and brother also were there visiting. While we were there, Little Guy got to go to that same pond with his Grandpa (my Dad) to do a little fishing too! They both used some kiddie fishing poles (purchased at garage sales), and had only weights and bobbers on the end of their lines.
LG kept saying, “I have a bite! I have a bite!” He didn’t of course, but the joy on his face was priceless. It didn’t matter that no fish were caught, or that Grandpa had to help throw out the line pretty much every time. Little Guy had the time of his life, and I’m pretty sure his Grandpa did too.
My Grandpa passed away over twenty years ago, but I have a feeling he’d be very happy if he knew that his old pond was the setting for another generation’s introduction to such a fun pastime.