(Christi Albers-Manicke/LACOMBE EXPRESS)

(Christi Albers-Manicke/LACOMBE EXPRESS)

Nothing brings you closer than ice fishing

This past weekend we had enough of annoying each other indoors and took it outside.

We decided to meet some friends out at The Narrows to do some ice fishing. We loaded up the cooler, got some gas and headed out.

The adventure started fairly smoothly. There were seven of us, four adults and three kids. The other mom and I surveyed the land and began setting up the ice fishing tent. We barely had it up and the kids were running in and out of it when one of them tripped on the door (despite numerous warnings to ‘lift your feet up’).

It looked like the fishing might be over before it even started but the magic healing powers of jelly beans cured the injury and we were able to carry on.

The guys in the group drilled four holes into the ice. We really only needed two but the extra two I assume were in case someone was walking by and they wanted to do some ice fishing. We would be ready.

One of the kids made sure to remind us to talk quietly or else we would scare the fish away. This kid would be a good fishing partner for my dad, who also doesn’t like much chatter on the lake.

The kids were entertained by fishing for about 15 minutes. They lost interest right around the time that the men of the group were about to start fishing.

The kids were ready for a quad ride.

The fishing responsibilities were relinquished to us mothers at that point. The kids left us with strict instructions on how to bob the fishing rod up and down occasionally and to call for them if we caught anything.

As we heard the sound of the quad trail off in the distance, the other mom and I looked at each other with slight fear in our eyes as we realized neither of us really know how to get a fish off of a hook.

So we set to work devising a plan for what to do if we actually caught a fish. We started off brave, sure we could get the fish off the hook if we needed to but eventually, we figured we would probably just cut the line or shove the pole through the hole and tell them the fish stole it.

Luckily we didn’t have to do anything drastic because soon the others had returned.

The dads settled in to start fishing, just as one of the kids got tangled in a fishing line. We got him untangled and gave him one of those ‘gentle reminders’ about watching where you’re walking. Back to fishing, another kid suddenly caught in the line.

We caught more kids than fish. A slightly more stern warning about watching lines and where one is walking and we were back to fishing. The kids kept peering down the hole, hoping to see something and honestly I would have paid a pretty handsome fee for a fish to swim buy or even better, launch itself up through the hole into our tent.

But we didn’t see any fish and we didn’t catch any.

Just as we were about to leave, relatively unscathed, I tossed out my motherly, “Watch out for the hole,” as my kid slipped into it. We dislodged his foot, retrieved the boot from the icy depths and took that as a for sure sign that it was time to go.

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