The Thanks I Get

Sunday was Father's Day.  I woke to the smell of coffee, but when I got to the pot I found it empty.  Brewing my own coffee, I watched as the kids scooted around the house, but I didn't get the cheerful "Happy Father's Day!" trio that I was expecting.  My daughter was going camping for a week with my sister's family, so she was bouncing off of the walls.  The boys were doing their tasmanian devil thing.  Michelle was focused on getting Hayden packed.  I eventually decided to head out front and pull the weeds from our overgrown flower bed.  When lunch rolled around there was still no mention of the old man's special day, and a sandwich and cup of diet Coke were brought to me in the front yard.  I was starting to wonder what was going on, but I went with the flow.  After lunch I drove Hayden up to Keri's and returned to find Michelle with car keys and purse in hand.  She wanted to head out for awhile.  She hoped I wouldn't mind watching the boys.  She was gone for a few hours, so I figured she must be working on something.  When she finally returned, she asked if I wanted waffles and eggs for dinner.  I gave up on it when I heard this.  I told her that no, I was thinking of taking Luke to Taco Bell and then we were going to go catch some creek chubs at the park.  She looked puzzled at that response and then asked me how that fit into my diet.  I finally said, "Well, it's supposed to be some kind of holiday so I guess that's how I'm going to celebrate."  She got a deer in the headlights look on her face and began to apologize, saying that she forgot.  We just spent most of Saturday celebrating Father's Day with our dads, but I guess I'll buy that she somehow forgot.  Anyway, she reached for the one thing that she thought might redeem her and sent me fishing.

Of course I took her up on it and was headed north within about 20 minutes.  Hoping to get some flattie bait, I started out fishing with crawlers.  I couldn't catch a sucker or rock bass to save my life.  The smallies were going crazy and I actually found myself grunting in disgust when I'd see them jump after the  hookset.  I even got so desperate for bait that I threw a little channel in the livewell.  I'm not sure if flatties eat them or not, but I wouldn't be surprised.  I was feeling quite a bit of tension as I got over an hour into my trip without decent bait.  It would start getting dark soon.  I was finally able to exhale when at last I pulled a small redhorse over the gunwhale.  It wasn't much, but it would give me a chance.  I finally got down to my very last chunk of crawler and was already in the middle of cutting up the little guy when my pole doubled over.  It was a huge sucker that would provide me with plenty of bait.  I was in good shape. 

I headed up to the island where I've been having some luck.  I didn't have my lines set for very long before the clicker in the rod behind me started going.  By the sound of it, a big flattie was moving away with my bait at a steady pace.  I grabbed the rod, turned off the clicker and engaged the reel, let the rod load up, and pulled the bait right out of its mouth.  My only substantial hit all night.  I went home feeling like Rodney Dangerfield.  Luke and I did get out and catch those creek chubs yesterday, so I'm loaded with bait and ready to hit it tonight.  I'm crossed eye tired, but I have to take advantage of June before it slips away.  The only thing good about the bad days is that they make the good days even better.  I'm due.