“Are we there yet?” came from the backseat as I sped down the back roads of Louisiana early on a Saturday morning. My 5-year-old daughter, Ava, and I were headed to the lake for her first fishing adventure. She’d been dying to go for some time now, and I was thrilled to finally have an open weekend to take her. Finding her in the rear view mirror, I said, “we’ve got about fifteen minutes left. The lake’s just up ahead.” I layed on the gas, and we made it in ten.
When we arrived at the lake, the sun was set perfectly over the horizon. Ava started bouncing off the walls as we unpacked our supplies, and though challenging to deal with at times, seeing her bubble with excitement made it worth it. I grabbed my ice chest, full of bait and tackle, and handed Ava her fishing rod. We then made our way down to the bank and headed towards an aluminum boat surrounded by a flock of geese. “Go away, ducks!” Ava commanded as she waved them away. I rolled my eyes. After the geese scattered, we readied the aluminum boat for departure, and I turned to Ava. “You ready, captain?” I asked. “Aye, aye,” she said, and we were off.
After reaching the middle of the lake, we anchored the boat, and I grabbed our rods. “All right Ava, let’s get some bait on these. Can you hand me the worms? They’re in the ice chest,” I said. Ava rummaged through the ice chest for a moment before pulling out our lunch container and handing it to me. “Not that one, silly. The worms are in a white box.”
She peered into the ice chest again. “I don’t see any worms, daddy,” said Ava. Searching thoroughly, she began pulling out everything except for the box of worms. Snacks, drinks, and everything else ended up on the boat’s floor. Finally, I decided to look in the ice chest myself, and to my surprise, she was right. The worms weren’t in there. Perfect, I thought. The fishing trip was over before it had even begun, and I felt myself becoming sour quickly. I’d cleared my busy schedule and brought us out to the middle of the lake with nothing to fish with. How quaint. Ava cast her empty line in while I sat there, defeated, pondering what my next move would be.
I was just about to suggest we go home when Ava had another idea. “Can we swim?” she asked. At this point, I didn’t care what we did anymore. I wanted to fish, but those plans were sabotaged. “Sure,” I resentfully agreed, and without thinking twice, I clumsily threw myself into the lake like a dead man. Ava burst out laughing, thinking I had fallen in by mistake. She lost herself, and I played it up. “Hey! You made me fall in!” I shouted. This brought on uncontrolled cackling from both of us, and the swimming began.
I couldn’t help but smile at how much fun Ava was having now. Although we’d come to fish, she didn’t seem to mind our change of plans; we would make do with swimming. Before we left, we played her favorite water game, “Shark.” The rules were simple–I pretended to be a shark, swam underwater, and splashed her when I surfaced. Though repetitive, seeing the joy and excitement it brought her motivated me to be the best shark I could be.
By the end of the day, I realized Ava didn’t care about fishing at all. In her eyes, it didn’t matter what we were doing as long as we were doing it together. Her childlike innocence and ability to go with the flow when life didn’t go as planned touched me that Saturday. It reminded me that children can be great teachers. More than ever, I finally understood the charm in a daughter who is able to capture her father’s heart. Ava didn’t catch the fish she intended to, but she walked away with something greater. She’ll remember it as the day her father pretended to be a fish. Everyone is entitled to their own unique perspective, and I have my own. In my mind, I’ll always remember it as the day she hooked my heart, reeled it in, and landed the greatest catch.