Dads Love To Make Their Kids Fish (A Short Story)

I saw this TikTok that made me think about how much dads love making their kid's fish, so decided to write a short story. 

Short Story About Fishing

Picture this. It's 4:15am on a Saturday morning. You had a long hard week of 6th grade. Had a big project due, your hot 24-year old teacher sent you sexually suggestive text that threw you for a loop, typical middle school drama. But finally it's the weekend, and you can sleep in as late as you want, right?

Wrong. It's even better. Your dad creeps into your room dressed like a zookeeper and gently shakes you awake. You feel his hot breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear a little too closely, "Surprise son, we're going fishing" 

Have you ever fished before in your life? Of course not. Does your dad like fishing? Not that you're aware. But your grandfather loved it, and he died a year ago today. He left your father his fishing poles and they've just been sitting in your garage ever since. Your dad always felt like a disappointment to his father because he was never a big outdoorsman, and in some weird roundabout way he thinks waking you up well before sunrise to make use of his old fishing gear will make up for his inability to pitch a tent as a 12-year old. 

Clearly he's is in the midst of a minor "my dad died 1 year ago" crisis, so you don't question him. You roll out of bed, put on the stupidest clothes you have, and walk downstairs. Your dad hands you a coffee. He's never done that before. He smiles and says, "You know what they say, a fisherman needs his coffee!"

That's definitely not what they say, but you don't challenge it. You've already accepted your fate. You load the fishing gear into the back of the car and hit the road.

You: "So where are we headed, Dad?"

Dad: "My co-worker Jimmy has a boat docked on Indian Lake. He said we can use anytime."

You: "Isn't Indian Lake 2 hours away? Why don't we just go to that pier in town?"

Dad: "Oh son, you have A LOT to learn about fishing."

So you embark on your unexpectedly long car ride. It's still pitch black outside. There's an oldies station playing on the radio. At one point your dad tries to make small talk by asking if you've ever heard of The Beatles. You just so happened to learn some Beatles songs in music class the other week, and you surprise him by knowing the words to Hey Jude. It's actually a nice little moment. You can tell your dad is impressed. Aside from that it's an uneventful drive. You consider telling him about how your teacher somehow acquired your cell phone number and sent you a series of emojis on Wednesday at 2:17am, but you're not sure if you want that to put that out in the world yet. One of these days you're going to get into masturbating, and you might regret it a few months from now if you torpedo that situation so quickly.

You finally arrive at the boat. It's parked out back of your dad's co-workers cabin. "I could definitely get away with murdering my dad here" You think to yourself. Not that you ever would. You love your dad a lot. It's just a fleeting hypothetical thought that crossed your mind. Nothing you need to go to therapy about or anything. You grab your poles and tackle box, and both climb into the tiny motor boat. You dad asks you to start it up. 

You: "What makes you think I know how to start a boat?

Dad (laughing): "Oh son…"

You: "Why did you start calling me son out of nowhere? You've never called me son before in your life"

Dad: "Haha, what can I say, I'm in fishing mode"

You: "What?"

Your dad starts sifting through the tackle box. He says he's "organizing the bait", but you're pretty sure he's just stalling because he doesn't know how to start the boat either. Then he pulls out his phone claiming he has a work emergency to deal with, but it's 7am on a Saturday, and he's a court stenographer, so you don't know what work he could possibly have to deal with on the weekend. Also you see him openly Googling how to start a boat. 

You: "Does this boat even have gas?"

Dad: "I'm sure Jimmy keeps it filled up."

You: "Why would you be sure of that?"

Dad: "One second let me finish up this work."

You:

Dad:

You: "I saw a couple of oars back by the cabin, should we just use those?"

Dad: "You wanna go old school huh, son? Now you're thinking like a fisherman."

You can tell your dad is relieved. That was almost really emasculating for him. I mean.. it still kinda was. You're well aware he's a 45 year old man who doesn't know how to operate a simple motor boat. But you played it off in a way that allowed him to keep a little dignity. You go grab the oars.

You: I've got the oars

You paddle the boat in circles for a minute or two until your dad figures out how hard he needs to row to match the strength of your weak arms. You make it about 100 yards away from the dock when you decide it's time to fish. You struggle to put the fake worms on your hooks for about 20 minutes (which is actually less time than you thought it would take). Luckily your grandpa had pre-humously strung the poles correctly, and they work great. Thank god, because there's no chance you would have been able to figure that out on your own. Your dad spends some time teaching you about the importance of what he calls "reel safety". When he was a kid his friend got a fish hook caught in his eyeball. Pulled his eye clean out of his head. Made a loud popping sound and everything. The kid had to wear a eye patch for the rest of his life. He made the best out of the situation by learning to talk like a pirate. But still, you don't want that happening to you.

You're out on the boat forever. The fish aren't biting at all. You're so bored, and you really want to tell your dad about your hot teacher. You don't even want him to know, it's just hard to sit on such juicy gossip and not tell anybody. But once again you refrain. You take a short break from fishing to eat from the large bag of almonds your dad packed as a snack.

You: "Did you pack us sandwiches or anything?"

Dad: "Nope, just almonds"

Your arms are tired. You tell your dad that you think you've had enough fishing. He seems discouraged, but he can't help but agree. It's been 4+ hours on the lake without a single bite. If grandpa were alive he'd call you both fishless pussies. You decide to give your fishing pole one final cast. You throw your line as far out into the lake as you possibly can. And what do you know, you got a bite!

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Dad: REEL SON! REEL YOUR ASS OFF!

You reel your ass off, but it's hard. This fish must be huge. Your dad is on the other end of the boat clapping his hands and jumping up and down like a school girl. He behavior makes reeling the fish in much more difficult. The boat is rocking like crazy. Almonds are everywhere. But you're not deterred. You're locked in on the fish. You have to bring it in. If you fail to do so it will likely set off a chain of events that leads to your dad spending your college savings on a motorcycle. You keep reeling. You finally reel it in close enough yank it up out of the water with all you might. The fish pops out of the lake and flops into the boat. You did it.

You begin to cheer.  Your dad has fallen to his knees and is weeping uncontrollably. He rips off his shirt and screams to the sky like Brandi Chastain in the 1999 Women's World Cup. You caught your first fish. It flops around on the floor of the boat, gasping desperately for water. You were wrong about it being huge. It's very small. But it's undeniably a fish.

You: Can I keep it?

Dad: Of course!

You: Where do we put it?

Dad:

You:

Dad: You know what son, this is a good opportunity for a life lesson. If you bit into a cheeseburger, and inside of the burger was hook that stabbed you through the cheek, and a man in the clouds pulled you up to atmosphere, would you want him to cook you for dinner? Or would you rather he return you back to earth?

You: Back to earth

Dad: That's right. Let's throw your fish back into his home.

Neither you or your dad can figure out how to unhook the fish, so you cut the line and toss it back in the lake with the hook still stuck through it's cheek.

You: Doesn't that hurt?

Dad: Fish don't feel pain 

You: Really?

Dad: I don't know. I think I heard that once

You: We forgot to take a picture

Dad: That's ok. A good fisherman never catches and tells.

You: But what if I want a cool pic for my Tinder profile some day?

You paddle back to shore, dock the boat, and pack up your belongings. Your dad has never been prouder. You proved to him that you're an independent 6th grader capable of providing for yourself in a situation where a working fishing pole, bait, and a boat are readily available. Better yet, you delayed your dad's inevitable mid-life crisis by at least 1 month, and temporarily filled the fish sized hole in his heart that your abusive grandpa left behind when he passed away. And you helped him re-discover a love of fishing that you suspect he never had in the first place. Plus, since you had such an incredible time, you can expect your dad to sneak into your room hours before sunset once every couple months to uproot your weekend plans and whisk you away to Indian Lake. There's nothing like fishing with your dad.

The End