“Get the stuff in the boat,” My dad told me as he hopped into the car, “I'm gonna go park this, then I'll be back. I obeyed, grabbing a bucket of lures, a fishing pole, and a couple of life jackets.
The choppy water bounced our small boat like a basketball on a trampoline, but we moved forward, trolling, or letting the line drift behind us while the boat was moving. I held the pole between my legs anticipating a strike. None came. After twenty minutes, my dad said, "Reel it in, let's try another lure." He pulled out a pink striped lure and put it on my pole. I let it drift behind the boat.
"Come on," I thought, " Take the bait. " They didn't.
My dad spoke again,"Let's try a different lure." He picked out a bright green one. I let the line drift.
"Hey Dad," I said, trying to break the silence, "Would you rather sky-dive or hang-glide?"
"Sky dive, Hang gliding kind of scares me."
"You're not afraid of jumping out of a plane, but you're scared of running off a cliff attached to giant wings? I'd rather hang-glide," I responded, "How about para-sailing? Or how about wind-surfing?"
"I don't know."
We continued fishing, switching our lures every twenty minutes. We caught nothing, but we had fun. I realized that I have more fun spending time with my dad than actually acomplishing what we set out to do.
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