there's fishing, and then there's fishing

In recent days, my dad has been taking me to the lake to fish. (Please do not tell my PETA friends.) I am a very compassionate fisherman though. Since time is precious in this process, I quickly cuddle the fish, kiss them, and tell them "it's alright little fishy" before tossing them back into the lake to be free and happy.

My dad marvels at the quantity of fish we catch. I might be good luck. And, since he has never done any real fishing, he thinks these little runts are something to brag about.

My mom laughs at us. It's not real fishing unless what you catch is bigger than a toddler. This is Scott, my mom, and Heather in the early 1970s. Now that is a fish worth catching.