From Deseret News archives:
Fishing is hard work!
I made sure he could see how much I wanted to go. I showed him my best sad face and made my eyelashes go up and down real slow. But he wanted me to wait until I was older, and he told me, "Fishing is very hard work." I tried to be mad at Grandpa, but I looked into his dancing gray eyes, and I couldn't.
Soon I was 6, and Grandpa said I could go fishing with him. The first thing I found out about fishing was that I couldn't sleep as long as I wanted. I could smell breakfast in the kitchen, and I knew Grandma was getting Grandpa ready for fishing. I knew she would be bustling about in her fuzzy slippers on the cool tile floor. Bacon and eggs, Grandma's specialty, along with hash browns and toast, would be waiting on the table.
Before the sun was up, Grandpa came in. "Get up, Janie," he said.
"It's hard to get up, Grandpa," I said, but I didn't mean it.
"Well," Grandpa said, "fishing is very hard work!"
When we went outside, the air was cool, and the sun was just starting to come up. "I can tell that it's going to be a good day," Grandpa said. He walked fast, and it was hard to keep up with him. But I didn't want him to think I was too little to be going with him. I walked faster than I ever had before. Fishing was very hard work!
Soon Grandpa and I were in the boat. "We'll head out this way," he said, pointing toward one side of the lake.
"How can you tell which way to go?" I asked. "The water all looks the same to me."
"It's hard to tell sometimes," said Grandpa. "But we'll try it there first and then go the other way if we have to."
"Fishing is very hard work!" I said. After a long time, we finally stopped. The water looked the same here as it had all the way across the lake.
"We'll stop here," said Grandpa. He showed me how to bait the fishing line. It was a little yucky, but I didn't complain. I was so glad just to feel the sun on my face and be big enough to be here.
We put our lines in the water. "Now we wait," said Grandpa. We waited and waited and waited.
"Waiting is hard, Grandpa," I said. "But you don't have to tell me again — fishing is very hard work."
But then my line jumped a little. "I have a fish!" I yelled. I knew I shouldn't squeal, but Grandpa didn't seem to mind. He showed me how to get the fish in. But when we got it in, he said, "It's only a baby. We throw the babies back."
"Grandpa!" I said. "Fishing is too hard!"
"Just try again," Grandpa said. So I put the line back in and waited. I knew Grandpa was right. I didn't want a baby fish. At last the waiting paid off. "You have a big one now!" Grandpa encouraged me. He helped me get the big fish in. It was very hard work!
"This was great," I told Grandpa. "I can't wait to eat this fish!"
"There's one more thing I have to tell you about," said Grandpa. "We have to clean the fish first!"
"Grandpa! Fishing is even harder than you said it would be," I complained. I tried to be brave as we cleaned my catch.
When we got home, I showed my fish to Grandma, and she took it to cook for dinner. I told Grandma that fishing was very hard. "But I can't wait to go again!"
