A Fathers Day Story

     To many I suppose it was just another day, but to me it was very special because Dad and I were going fishing.  We stopped at our usual station for worms, soda, gas, and of course our candy bars, a Hershey for me and a Butterfinger for him.  This was back in the days of service stations, and the young man who filled our tank also washed our windows.  We drove off and had not driven but a couple of miles when a great big bug hit our clean windshield and left a yellow blotch about an inch in diameter. Dad looked at it and with his special grin said, "I bet he doesn't have guts enough to try that again."
     We kept going and in time arrived at a creek that was chock full of trout ranging in size from  4 to 6 inches. I started fishing. Dad had no interest in this kind of fishing so he read a book he had brought along.  After about an hour I tired of it and we headed out to one of Dad's favorite trout streams. When we got there he baited up and on his first cast he was into a very nice size trout.  That is when Dad reached into the Bob Bet bait box only to learn that I had used all the worms on those tiny trout.  It was about fifty miles to the closest bait store. Dad didn't even get mad, he just said it was partly his fault for not paying attention.  That was one of the best fishing trips ever, with a man who taught me the three most important lessons of my life: to love the feel of a good book, to love fishing, and that family was and is the only damn thing that matters.