As some of you know, I have family in Ohio I’ve fallen out of touch with. But when I was a little kid, my mom took me to visit occasionally. We’d go during summer vacation and stay in a Howard Johnson for a couple days. Her family was super small town, and even she was no longer used to their ways.
Once, on a boiling hot day, my cousins were going fishing in the creek (the “crick”) and asked me to come along. I was 8, and my mom said okay. I had never fished, so they baited my hook. I was excited! Me, a little girl from New York City, fishing in a creek!
My cousins kept catching fish, but I didn’t. It made me sad. They showed me ways to move my pole a bit and where to stand to attract a fishie. Finally, I felt a tug on my line. Yay! I called out for help and they told me how to reel my catch in.
It felt heavy. I was elated. My first fish! There were no cell phones back then, but I was already imagining taking a polaroid pic at the house and showing off to my friends back in the city.
But then I saw my fish, which didn’t look like any fish I’d ever seen. “Ewww!” I screamed. “It’s a monster!”
I dropped my fishing pole and one of my cousins grabbed it. They both cracked up laughing. “It’s just a catfish! They’re delicious!”
“Gross!” I yelled, running back to the house.
My grandma fried up all the fish that night for dinner. I just had salads and dessert. My cousins told the folks that I’d caught the biggest catfish ever to come out of that muddy little creek as everyone ate. Yuck!
This fish tale is in response to Rory’s challenge. Please note in the comments on how believable you consider the story to be, on a “scale” of 1-10, with 10 being most believable.