At this point, my husband turned around to explain to him that we weren't going fishing; we were going to his auntie's wedding. Noah burst into tears. In the five years since he's been born, I don't know that I've ever seen him cry so hard and so long. It broke both my husband and I's hearts. Noah had this trip so built up in his head. He just knew that we were going fishing and when he found out we weren't, it was the end of the world.
In that moment, we knew we had to make it right. I suggested that this past weekend would be the perfect opportunity to go fishing as we had nothing on the calendar. And in typical Noah fashion, he didn't let us forget about it for the entire week.
As the days went by, I brought up the topic of fishing and suggested that Lydia and I would plan something that day as well while Noah and his dad were off fishing (so not my idea of a good time). Noah again stepped in and insisted that we all go fishing, even went so far as to encourage us to buy Lydia a pole and helped her pick out which one. He completely took the big brother role, explaining to her what we would do and what her choices were.
Finally Saturday arrived ... and so did the rain. It was cold, windy, wet, ... and we were right in the middle of it. We had to make it right and keep our promise; there was no wiggling our way out of this one. They packed up their fishing poles and I... well, I packed my book, fully intending on sitting in the car, reading quietly.
Seeing my kids standing there, side by side, catching about fish, enjoying the day... that made it all worth it for me. The book got left in the car, the worms... well, those were my husband's department. One glorious morning spent family bonding in the way that only fishing can bring about. It's mornings like this that make it all worth it.