One of my favorite things about my new Kindle is the ability to browse through countless genres and writers and topics. I've already discovered several authors who I think will become long time favorites. This afternoon I was reading a book by an author I've never read before, and he wrote a story about receiving an invitation in the mail for a fishing club. As it turns out his experience in the world of fishing was limited to a few summers on the lake as a young boy, which didn't exactly qualify him as a prime candidate for an angler's club. However, those experiences did provide him with enough material for a few funny stories.
Which of course made me think of my own fishing stories.
You may be thinking, OH LAURA DARLING, I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE A FISHERWOMAN.
That would be because I'm not.
However, for nearly every summer of my entire life, my family has packed up the car and driven to the mountains of western Maryland to spend two weeks at a cabin on the lake. And over the course of all those vacations, a lot of fishing has gone on.
This particular story took place when I was about twelve years old, which means Emily was five and Phil was thirteen. We had arrived at the lake earlier that day, and after dinner my parents, Emily, and Phil went down to the water. For some reason I did not accompany the rest of my family down to the lake. Probably because I had to put on some Bonne Bell lip gloss. I was a big Bonne Bell fan at that point in my life.
Let's be honest. I still am.
Anyway, my parents and siblings brought a fishing pole down to the lake with them, and the plan was to do a little after dinner fishing. My dad rigged up the pole and put a worm on the hook at the bottom.
At the time, Emily was a very inexperienced angler, as most five year olds are. But Phil gave the fishing pole to Emily and showed her the basics of casting.
And then it was time.
First cast of the vacation.
My parents and Phil stood on the dock while Emily enthusiastically brought that fishing pole behind her head in preparation for one giant cast, hoping against hope to catch something.
Well, she caught something alright.
Or, more specifically, his eyelid.
The good news was that my dad sprang into action and immediately cut the fishing line to free Phil from being anchored to a five foot graphite pole. I heard yelling and crying coming from the direction of the lake, and after I put down my lip gloss, I looked out the window to see my mom running up the lawn with her arms around my panicked brother, who had a hook through his eyelid and a slimy worm dangling on his cheek. My dad followed close behind with a hysterical Emily.
The next few moments were a bit of a blur, but it turns out that the while Phil was running up from the lake, the hook was jostled out of his eye. Thankfully the worm was history too. My parents decided that the best bet was to take him to the hospital, because, you know, he had just had a DIRTY FISHING HOOK in his eyelid.
And they wanted to avoid any situations of, HELLO TETANUS, SO GLAD YOU COULD ACCOMPANY US ON VACATION.
The three of them jumped into the car and drove to the nearest hospital, which was forty minutes and two stoplights away. The fact that one can drive for FORTY MINUTES and only meet two measly stoplights boggles my suburban mind.
Meanwhile, Emily and I watched Nick at Nite and I'd like to take this opportunity to give Bill Cosby a shout out. It takes a very funny person to be able to make someone laugh when their brother is in the emergency room because she went fishing and CAUGHT HIM.
After a check up and a tetanus shot, Phil was fine. He lived to fish another day.
And I think it's safe to say that Emily will never be invited to join a fishing club.