JD had been looking forward to our fishing trip on Saturday for weeks. I had secretly been dreading it. We woke up in the early, early morning and drove up the canyon for over an hour to set up on the dock by 7 am. It was freezing and I was crankkkky. After a few hours of fishing with only one bite, I was thoroughly convinced of what I'd known from the start: fishing is by far the most boring and unproductive way to spend your time. I mumbled and grumbled and begged JD to leave. He told me to be patient and to try to learn something from this beautiful experience in the outdoors. After pleading for freedom and finding no sympathy from my fish-loving husband, I decided I would read aloud to try and pass the time. We are currently reading the biography of Thomas S. Monson and I decided to pick up where we left off a few weeks ago.
Imagine JD's smug smile as I began the chapter by reading, "In 1930 when Sinclair Lewis accepted his Nobel Prize in literature he wisely stated, 'I learned, as a boy, that there is something very important and spiritual about catching fish.' Tom Monson would agree. . ." [emphasis added]
I wanted to die. The entire chapter we read was about the lessons he learned while fishing with his father, brothers, cousins, and other relatives on the lakes and rivers of his boyhood. How appropriate for this occasion, right?! I learned that in order to learn to fish, one must be "patient, watchful, determined, resilient, and strong."
I couldn't believe we ended on that chapter and I decided to open the book at that particular moment. It was pretty hilarious. . . but I do think I'll be learning patience some other way. I still hate fishing.
2 comments:
but you are still precious! And a great sport to even say you'd go, and I know you'll go again. Your Granny loved fishing. Mom
HAHA I love this. Can't wait to go fishin with you Sum Sum. : )
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