“But I’m tired dad. Ughh.” I groaned.
I wished I could sleep in longer but the urge to fish brought me reluctantly crawling out of bed. My dad had breakfast made already and was drinking his usual morning coffee when I came out. I got dressed as quick as I could and scarfed down my scrambled eggs.
I had been to my grandparents house countless times before but had never really cared about fishing. Every time we were there I had seen my dad out on the dock casting away. He would always come back with a basket full of bright, slippery fish that I later learned were called bluegill. …show more content…
I took the worm and dangled it in the water expecting a fish to come up and bite it right away.
My dad laughed and said, “What are you doing bud? You have to put it on the hook first!”
I giggled back, “Oh! No wonder I didn’t get any bites!” This was completely new to me so it took some practice. I didn’t want to hurt the worm so I had my dad thread it onto the hook. He handed me the rod with the slimy, wriggling worm on the hook and I flung it out as far as I could. I saw the bobber moving back and forth and up and down! My dad yelled, “SET THE HOOK!” I had no idea what he was talking about so I just jerked the rod pointlessly. I started reeling it in but quickly realized there wasn’t a fish, or a worm for that matter, on the pointy