My Pole

In the off chance that you didn't know, we are a fishing family. I include myself in that statement because I 1) used to fish when I was a kid and 2) cook the catch. The Kid firmly believes his grandchildren should be lovingly indoctrinated at a young age. It has proven effective with Miss A. She received a fishing pole on the day of her birth and has taken to the sport like a fish to water. Her favorite part of the process is holding (tormenting) the panic stricken fish before gently tossing (heaving) them back in the lake. The G-man hasn't quite got the hang of it yet. Pappy is giving him a pass this year. After all he is only two and has the attention span of a gnat.

He has a rod and reel and he knows which one is his. "My pole" (emphasis on the MY) he proclaimed to everyone and no one each time he walked by the shiney rod and reel reclining against the tree.

MY pole.

No one's looking, I think I'll check it out.

I wonder what this thing does?

Look Grammy, it spins.

I think I've got the hang of it.

I've got MY pole and I'm ready to roll.

Now which way is the lake?