On Sept 11th this year my buddy Jeff and I decided to take our kids--Liam and Anya--fishing. Being fully cognizant of our childrens' attention spans, we decided to do something I swore I would never do: We took the stinkers to a trout farm. Funny how many lame things our parents did make sense to us once we are parents.
While the kids showed no interest in the fishing poles and bait they loved the nets, and spent the entire time Jeff and I tried to hook fish running around the ponds trying to ensnare each other.
Here I am pretending Anya is loving the fishing.
Alas Anya didn't actually hook a fish, but she did help me by netting one of mine all by her self. Then again she had practice. She netted several fish from the feeding/growing pond (no fishing allowed). Below you can see her an Liam feeding the very same fish she eventually scooped up.
I don't think our child is normal.
In our post fishing discussion Jeff informed me he was concerned what he was going to tell Liam when he landed his first fish and had to beat it to death. The fish was flopping around and Jeff was having a crisis of conscience (albeit minimal). Anya and I walked over and I whacked the fish and no one even raised an eyebrow.
According to Jeff he had to explain for a few days why we had to kill fish to eat them and how farm animals become burgers and all that. Our friend Maria didn't want me to bring her boy Javier because she felt killing the fish might traumatize him, our buddy Luca still asks his dad, "Do you mean animal chicken or food chicken?"
Know what my kid asked? "Dad! Can I eat the fish's eyes?!" (Mom said, "No" by the way)
While it is true that Anya is a very empathetic child who always shows concern for others who suffer or cry. She's also pretty comfortable with guts and gore and bugs and all things icky.
I think she'll be a doctor or nurse or vet.
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