Fishing, Part III

So, about the time we were leaving, Cameron casually asked, 'So Dad, how many did you catch?'

You know, there's nothing worse than going fishing with a kid who can both count and has a mind like a steel trap. (In Cameron's case the trap teeth are also tipped with curare poison.)

For example, I again regaled him with the story about the time I caught a bunch of crappie off a dock on the Snake River. 'I must've caught 30!' I reminisced.
'Last time you said you must've caught 15 that time. and by the way, I believe that you caught them using a red and white jig.'
'15, 30, what's the difference--there were a lot of fish!'

Still, there are some advantages to having a child angler that is counting age. Cameron baits his own hook, and most of the time he can unhook the fish too, which means that I can spend more time fishing!

And by the way, it was one. A medium-sized bass. Don't worry about remembering this, as Cameron will definitely be able to remind you!