The house was clean. Spring cleaned.
Then three teenage grandsons arrived.
The cat dove under a bed.
When the boys were toddlers, I used to say that a whirlwind had gotten into the house; now, that they’re all taller than I, it’s a full fledged tornado.
hey, Grandma, hi, where’s the drinks, homemade cookies, wow! we’re going fishing, ok?
Then they phoned; they had caught a fish. Quite a large fish, to be exact.
Their mom/aunt and I walked over to the lake. It was a very, very large fish with quite a large mouth. It was a fish that looked very intent on living. Currently, the fish was held captive in a large bucket and not at all happy.
We could take it home and cook it, the boys said in unison.
oh yeah. and just who do you think is going to kill the fish?
The boys looked at each other. That fact has not been factored in. The boys looked at the fish that was looking very mean, sort of in a Jaws-like way.
And, who is going to clean and fillet this dinner item?
My daughter and I looked at one another. She’s the daughter, the only daughter, who is just now learning the fundamentals of cooking. She shrugged and looked at me.
Not going to happen. Toss it back. Besides, it’s a bass and they’re lousy to eat. It’s better off living.
I had no idea what I was talking about, but I used to teach high school and the kids usually believed me. These were two fifteen year olds and an up and coming preteen brother. They believed me.
The fish went back into the lake to live another day.
Then, the darn kids turned around and caught another large fish. This time, two serious fishermen in a boat on the lake gave them the thumbs up (at least, there was a digit that went skywards), shook their heads and headed home.
The boys knew better than to ask a second time, and another fish was granted a stay of execution.
All that fishing left the boys inhaling food. My mother used to wonder if my brothers had hollow legs; the same thought crossed my mind.
Where do they put all that food? A second batch of cookies was well on the way to being devoured as well. Ditto lasagna, salad, veggies and a loaf of French bread before trying their hand, and their grandmother’s clubs, on the green just beyond my deck, coming back for some gin rummy and more food.
Two of the three –– the teens — were up before dawn, hauling a kayak to the lake along with the fishing gear. Something about the early bird…
They returned a couple hours later to inhale Dutch Babies and a large bowl of fresh fruit before heading back again to hunt down yet another monster fish. I can only hope the fish stays well out of reach.
Who knew that one lake, a 6th green, a deck of cards and a mountain of food could keep teenagers entertained?