If you know me, you know I love fishing. Yes, I have ADHD. No, it does not make sense. I am aware.
The other day I had my two grandsons. My oldest is my little fishing buddy, so of course we were going to go. My youngest, who also has ADHD and is on the spectrum, wanted to go too.
I said, “Not this time, bud.”
Not because I don’t adore him. I do. But I have taken that child fishing before. It goes about as well as taking a squirrel to meditation class. He needs to move. He needs action. He needs seventeen different activities in five minutes. Fishing has… one activity. And it involves waiting.
I love taking him places that match his energy. Fishing is not it.
But then Grandpa walked in.
My grandson KNOWS Grandpa is the weak link. He never says no. So he made absolutely sure Grandpa heard me say no.
Grandpa, being Grandpa: “Aw, he can go. I’ll watch him.”
Grandson: “YAY!!!”
Me, to my husband: “Cool. He’s all yours then. You’re a big boy. You do you.”
Famous last words.
Stop One: Way too many swimmers in our fishing spot.
My grandson lights up like Christmas. “OHHH I WANT TO SWIM! You fish, I’ll swim!”
I just looked at my husband and went, “And so it begins.”
We pivot to a lake with a beach, so we can actually fish in peace. This is the exact moment my husband realized he messed up.
We pull up and my grandson screams, “OH YAY I CAN SWIM INSTEAD!”
Grandpa tries to lay down the law: “No. We are here to FISH.”
Oh honey. Bless your heart. Good luck with that.
So me and my oldest go fish like normal humans. Grandpa gets assigned to the Splash Zone.
About 20 minutes later, here they come. Grandson is done swimming. Now Grandpa is apparently his personal fishing guide.
I asked, “Are you done swimming?”
“Grandpa is going to help me fish!”
I laughed so loud I scared the fish. “Oh, is he now? That’s fantastic.”
For those of you who don’t know my husband, he SWEARS he is a patient man. He is not. He has the patience of a gnat on energy drinks.
So I’m trying to enjoy my peaceful fishing while I get to eavesdrop on the chaos down the bank:
“Wait a minute! No, you have to wait! No, let me put the bait on! No, let me cast it so you can SEE how! ARE YOU WATCHING?! WATCH THE BOBBER! We are NOT going swimming again! We are FISHING!”
Then my grandson stomps over to me.
“Grandma, can I use your pole?”
Two casts. “Okay I’m bored. Can we go home? I’m hungry.”
This child is hungry every five minutes. I swear he has a tapeworm with a watch.
I walked over to my husband. “Ready to go?”
He looked at me like a defeated war veteran. “Yes. We cannot take him fishing anymore.”
Oh REALLY? You don’t say? Thanks for catching up to what I said an hour ago!
We went home. Zero fish. They weren’t biting anyway.
But we did learn something very important.
When Grandma says no, it’s not because she’s mean. It’s because she’s been there, done that, and does NOT want to spend her fishing trip running a daycare / swim lesson / fishing show / snack bar.
Listen to Grandma next time. 🤣
P.S. This blog is free and always will be! It does cost me a little to keep this site running though. If you ever got a laugh out of a story or tried one of my recipes, and you want to buy this grandma a coffee to help keep the lights on, I would be forever grateful. No pressure at all – just having you here is more than enough!
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