MY FISHING CAREER
I wanted to go fishing so badly when I was a kid. Fishing looked like such fun. I knew that you had to put worms on a hook, but never thought how this killed the worms or hurt the fish.
I nagged my father to buy me a fishing rod. My wish to fish was greater than a vampire’s wish to work in a blood bank. My father said, “Maybe, if you’re good, the Birthday Bunny will bring you a fishing rod.” I was good, and sure enough, the Birthday Bunny brought me a fishing rod. (In our family, we had Santa Claus bring us gifts at Christmas; the Easter Bunny bring us chocolate eggs at Easter, and the Birthday Bunny bring us gifts on our birthdays.)
I could not wait to go fishing! I did not want to eat the fish I caught. I did not like the taste of fish, but I thought I could keep the fish I caught as pets.
My father took me to Grenadier Pond in High Park. High Park is in Toronto, and not too far from where we lived. A lot of people fished at Grenadier Pond.
I stood at the edge of Grenadier Pond. I cast and waited. Oh boy! I was fishing!
I do not know how long I was waiting for a fish to bite when a bus-size dragon-fly buzzed by. I had never seen a dragon-fly so big! I froze while it hovered about inspecting me. This inspection took forever! As soon as this bus-size dragon-fly was looking the other way, I carefully put my fishing rod down on the ground and ran and ran and ran.
So ended my fishing career. I never wanted to go fishing ever again.