If you can't beat it, accept it

It has been a couple of months since my husband, Chris, came home towing the boat I was not prepared to accept into our possession. Over the course of that time, I have developed what I have come to think of as a love/hate relationship for the vessel.

I tried to like the boat, but the boat doesn’t seem to like me. Case in point: once, when we went onto Lake Jackson, my seat broke, and I tipped over backwards in a way that cut and bruised the tops of my feet on the underside of the dash.

On another day, Chris had just bought a tube to pull behind the boat. After several trips with the kids, the choke began acting up. I got in the tube and the boat refused to start. The boat hates me.

Usually, I just scowl at it as I pull out of the driveway, but every now and then, I fantasize about taking our big Sharpie marker and scrawling “S.S. fill-in-the-blank-with-any-derogatory-term” on the sides, then blaming the neighborhood kids.

So when Chris asked if I wanted to go fishing with him, the kids, and his cousin, Phillip, this past Sunday, every fiber in my body was screaming “NO!,” but for some reason, my mouth said, “I guess so.”

My intentions were to bring a book and ignore everyone.

We launched at Lake Istokpoga’s public boat ramp and cut over into Arbuckle Creek. It was positively beautiful. There was no way I was going to read my book with all that scenery distracting me. Also, the boat was rocking quite a bit because no one wanted to sit still while they fished. No one wanted to be very quiet either.

It didn’t take long for me to declare that I too would be fishing, but I wasn’t going to waste my time with brim and blue gills. I would aim higher and set my sights on some large-mouth bass.

I had no clue if bass would be biting or not, but I felt like they would.

Phillip set up my hook and I began casting; something I had not done in about 25 years.

My son caught a nice sized blue gill and Chris caught a small brim followed by an even smaller brim that was about the size of a Pringles potato chip. Phillip caught what we believe was the same blue gill twice.

Sadly, I didn’t catch a single fish, but I did catch a huge stick. I reeled that baby in and it measured at least six feet. It felt good to clear it out of the way for future anglers. I also caught the anchor line and a tree.

When I told my sister, she explained that I don’t have a fishing license so it was a good thing I didn’t catch anything. I had totally forgotten this bit of information. Chris, Phillip, and my son are all licensed. Now that I think back on the day, Chris must have felt fairly confident that I wasn’t going to violate the law when he placed that rod in my hands.

I will make sure I’m legal next time. The fish will bite if they know I’m licensed, I’m just sure of it.

I think the important thing is that I am starting to like the boat. If things keep going like this, I might start smiling at it when I leave the house. We’ll just have to wait and see what happens.