But he came home and talked my ear off non-stop about the fishing that day. And as soon as he had a free weekend, he went back twice more, leaving even earlier than 4 a.m. and in even colder weather. And by the third time, I caught on to the shenanigans. A full day on the lake, plus travel time. That is a very long day when you do it two weekends in a row.
For me, I mean! Let's see: a day that starts out shivering in the freezing temps just after dawn, casting out and reeling in over and over and over, or a day with The Girl With A Thousand Questions.
Heck, I can always wear more clothes.
Now I know what they mean by "fishwife" and "carping." Good lord.
Anyway, for Christmas I decided to be a little less selfish, and I put some bait in his stocking. He loved it so much, he took it down to the lake behind my parents' house and spent the evening fishing. I gave up hope for him to catch anything until around 9 p.m., when he appeared on the deck with a flashlight aimed at his prize. My parents and I headed out to take pictures of the catfish he pulled in with his hands (the line got tangled up on the reel):
This one weighed about 15 pounds and measured about 2 feet long. Brian's fingers were a bit chewed up from holding the fish for this picture. After we oohed & aahed over our favorite hunter/gatherer, Brian took the catfish back down to the lake and let him go. The fish swam off quickly and managed to avoid getting hooked again the next day, when Brian spent the entire day fishing.
The first step is admitting you have a fishing problem, and that you are powerless to stop fishing on your own.