We didn’t even get a nibble.  All morning at Lake Chabot, 9:30 am-11:30 am, it was no bites, no stolen bait, not even a hook that got snagged on something that wasn’t a fish.  Nothing.  Nada.  Every time I reeled up, my PowerBait was still on there.  There was one tiny hint that the fish might be pecking at our offerings:  the Case of the Missing Marshmallow.  

Natalie put two pink marshmallows on her fishhook and when she reeled it up, only one marshmallow was left!  Did it get stolen by a fish?  Or did it just float away?  Hint: she mashed both marshmallows on there by herself with her own little 4 year old fingers.  Now, she did it without poking herself, so I’m happy for her (and proud of her), but let’s just say she was lucky that even one of those pink ‘mallows was still there.  I doubt a fish even came close to the missing marshmallow.  Case closed.

The guy next to us caught one.  He asked if he could use my net and I forced a laugh. “Sure, go ahead.  I’m not using it!”  He netted a decent fish, a rainbow trout that was maybe a pound and a half.  He was using nightcrawlers.  I hadn’t bought any nightcrawlers.  Yep, about time to leave.

Natalie said she would count to ten, then we would leave.  Great, a guy catches one and she is ready to leave.  When I was a kid, a fish caught near me meant the bite might be turning on and I should stay another hour just to make sure I didn’t miss it!  Sighing, I took one last cast.  I wasn’t expecting anything but I always have to make one last cast. 

You never know. . .  Natalie changed her mind and decided to count to twenty before we had to leave.  It didn’t make any difference.  I reel up and started putting away the rest of our gear.  I mournfully swish my net in the water and rinse the fish slime off.  The slime on my net that was from the other guy’s trout.

As we trudged back to the car I felt disappointed, sad, frustrated.  It isn’t the first time I got skunked and I doubt it will be the last but it never gets any easier.  I look at the ugly lake with the ugly muddy water and shake my head ruefully.  Natalie and I walk back to the car.  “Poppa?” she asks.  “Can we go fishing again?”  I wearily agree, trying to think of the next opportunity we might have to go.  Maybe in a couple weeks.

I almost missed it.  We are driving home and it hits me: even though we hadn’t caught a thing, Natalie wants to go fishing with me again!  Maybe that is the lesson I am supposed to learn today!  I didn’t catch a fish but maybe I caught a part of my daughter’s heart. 

What did it? 

Maybe it was the shiny pinwheel I brought, the bottle of bubbles I bought, the snacks I packed, the juice we drank, or the drive we drove.  Something caught her fancy and made her want to go fishing again.  Was it the breakfast Happy Meal with the goofy toy?

I don’t know what it was but I got the desire of my heart.  I thought I really wanted a fish- wait.  I know I really wanted to catch a bunch of fish.  The night before we left and while we were driving to Lake Chabot, Natalie and I prayed together to catch fish.  While we were on the lake, I gave a silent prayer for fish.  I wanted to catch something, anything!  But what will really make me happy?  Not some slimy trout.  Not a limit of bass, nor a few catfish or a handful of perch.  A salmon?  Maybe. . .  Nah!

What will really make me happy?  Enjoying the time with my daughter and knowing that she loves to spend time with me.  So I guess I did catch something today!