After much meandering and serendipitous happenings upon happy machinery and aircraft, M-ELA, GMK, and C-boy made it to the pond at Marine Corps Air Station Miramar.
From across the pond.
Picturesque.
Will Jack EVER grow?
Jamie was bothered by "yellow jackets"...I maintain they were sweat bees. They were attracted to either A. our bait (hot dogs) or B. Ben's humorous haranguing about "fishing with amateurs" and "working with hot dogs".
Jack would NOT touch a fish. The one he did touch resulted in immediate, dramatic dash to the van for M.P.
Silver temples...
Charlie said "I be a fisherBOY!" (Only Ben, it seems, could be a fisherman).
In Charlie's world, you drop the hook in and reel a fish out.Charlie was flexible, however.
"I catch a HOT DOG!"
And was equally happy about that result.
Mikey was perplexed that the novice (me) caught the most fish (4).
Thank you very much. GMK and Ben mocked me for "competing against small children."
No doubt untangling one of my several casting calamities. Or baiting the hook with hot dog bits. Not pictured is Charlie EATING the uncooked/unheated/nasty-sitting-in-a-sandwich-bag-on-a-dock-all-morning franks. Gross!
Here's one.
Jamie and his fish.
GMK looks like a woman in need of a Photo Shopped thought bubble. 
Yay, Charlie!
Uh-oh, the former thought bubble has morphed into a SPEECH bubble :-)
We didn't make a deep-sea fishing excursion, but this was pretty pleasant.
73 degrees and a little breezy. No humidity.
The one-claw touch.
Jamie was getting tweaked that C-boy and CQ were having all the luck.
Giggle bubble. Not pictured is Charlie's hysterical splinter incident.
The poor kid had a fever, but I pretended we were on vacation and dosed him with Motrin (TM). MOTY nomination is looking like a stretch.
LLGA awake. The aircraft fly-overs (LOUD and SUDDEN and FREQUENT) startled her.
Another crablet, another single claw claim.
Surprisingly enjoyable.
My lil' fishing helper. 
Mikey's shadow. The other fisher grandpa and grandson, I'm certain, tremendously valued being part of Autism Goes Fishing as Charlie chattered incessantly (when J-crabs weren't doing mouth noises). A couple of times we were treated to Charlie's rendition of the Three Billy Goats Gruff as he trip-trapped over the "bridge" (dock).
We caught another! A big one!
Mikey's catch.
And C-boy got another, too.
Another one-claw wonder above and below. Good grief.
Mikey's second fish.
Daddy's little outdoorsy girl.
Jamie's new strategy: Infusing a prayerful stance in "Mom's hole".
2 comments:
Looks like a fun time, clearly you documented every evolution of the trip. Belt loops for all my relatives.
lots of good pics. I know that I think fish are slimy, but there comes a time where you at least have to touch it.
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