Father of the Year

This picture has nothing to do with anything, but it's Cody reading to the sister he loves. And Cordelia. It's funny to watch Emma when Cody reads to her. More often than not, she stares at him, instead of the books. Like she can't believe he's doing it.

Anyway, the story I'm about to tell has no pictures. Except in my mind.

Cody has been, since his holiday in Parsippany, obsessed with fishing. Shannon bought him a fishing pole. And on Saturday, she took him to the nearby lake--we've always called it the "Tippy Lake," because it has so many turtles; this will be important--to try his luck. While there, they met a nice boy named Andrew, who was also out angling. Shannon captured Cody's joy in finding a compatriot:

After two hours in the sun, Cody and Shannon came home for the bathroom and to hydrate and restock. And then I took my turn out at the lake with Cody. Andrew was, happily, still there. Cody brought him a bag of lollipops because, as he told me, "Andrew is the kindest boy in the whole world and my best friend. I love him." Nothing says love like lollipops.

I watched as Andrew and Cody cast their lines, over and over. And then, Andrew caught something. A large snapping turtle. Probably 18 inches long. Which had swallowed the hook.

They brought the turtle up on the shore and Andrew was trying to figure out what to do. The turtle was angry and hurt and Andrew was worried that he was going to have to cut the line. Which, as he solemnly informed Cody, would kill it; being stuck as it would be with a hook in its throat.

So I took Andrew's pliers. And then pulled out my little utility knife and converted it into a second set of pliers. And then I had him use the handle of his net to push down on the turtle's head just enough to keep its head out, and jaws open.

And then I went to work.

Here I am, my fingers two inches away from a very unhappy set of jaws, trying desperately to save the life of this turtle, with this 11-year-old kid I've never met, and Cody, meanwhile, is perched right behind me, imitating Steve Irwin.

"That's it. You're all right. There's a good girl. Crikey, she's grumpy. That's a grumpy turtle, Daddy. It's okay, you're all right turtle, you're all right."

And the whole time he's unconsciously doing this patter in an Australian accent.

Eventually, the hook came out. The turtle survived. Nature. Goulet. And everyone was happy at Tippy Lake. Except for me.

Because I h-word fishing.

If only Pop-Pop and Uncle Bob lived closer.