Sunday, January 27, 2008

genetically speaking

My husband is insane. He decided, that since it was freezing today and has been all week, today would be a perfect day to go ice fishing.

Yes, ice fishing.

With the kids.

Even the not-quite-two year old.

You're probably thinking "God, do people actually go ice fishing anymore?" I'd like to assure you they do. They cut holes in the ice and set up little flag-things (called "tilts," because this blog is nothing if not educational). Then they hang out in the freezing cold and wait for some stupid fish to grab their hook, thus setting off the flag. Sometimes they even light fires on the ice (because nothing says safety like adding heat to the ice upon which you are trusting your life). They do this for long periods of time and claim it is great fun. (Don't worry, I'm not buying it either.) But here's the thing about ice fishing that gets me: you can only do it on days that are really really cold. AND, it has to have been cold for awhile before that, to ensure the ice is frozen enough so you can stand on it without falling through. Obviously, this combines two of my favorite features in sports- being out in freezing cold weather and the possibility of plunging to my death in frigid water any second. So, yeah, I was totally into "heading out on the ice". Totally. I did agree to accompany Hubby and Big Sister to check the ice yesterday and make sure it was thick enough. (State law requires 5 inches; I require 6; the pond we checked was 7. See? Educational.) And we brought Magic Baby, mostly because you can't really leave a not-quite-two year old in the car while you hike through the woods. At least not in this state. He wasn't all that interested and did not care for walking on the ice at all, so I figured I was in the clear. I could stay home with Magic Baby and let Hubby and Big Sister pursue their death-wishes. (FYI- Big Sister loves ice fishing and has for years. Clearly, she inherited the insanity gene from her father.) Then this morning, while I was still asleep, Hubby took the kids to the bait shop, where they bought a Bucket-O-Fish to use for bait. (Yes, in ice fishing you purchase fish which you then use to lure other fish onto your hook. No, this is not at all redundant. At least, that's what I'm told.) And Magic Baby saw the Fish That Are Going To Soon Be Impaled On A Hook Then Eaten By Other Fish. And he really really liked them. And he was sad when Hubby and Big Sister took them away. Really really sad. So I (and yeah, this was just stupid of me) decided to take Magic Baby to where the rest of the family was ice fishing. On the ice. In the cold. And the snow (did I mention it was snowing?). Because I thought it would be good for him, or educational, or at least that he would enjoy it. And we bundled up (a lot, as I am a total wuss when it comes to cold) and drove to the place they were and trudged through the woods and I slipped a lot and fell a few times and when we finally reached the ice, Magic Baby looked at me and said


And after all that bundling and driving and trudging and falling, we left. Almost immediately, because apparently he is also a wuss when it comes to cold. (Hubby and Big Sister stayed out for another six hours, because they apparently are not.) But, I have no doubt that in a few years he'll be joining his father and sister on the ice, running and sliding and having a great time. For hours and hours with no regard for the cold. After all, it's in his genes.