My parents have been watching my son while I go to school. Him being 8, and them being 70, he can get a little bored. He likes stuff like playing cards, watching tv, and playing on the computer, so they get along pretty well. He also likes to fish. Our family, when I was a kid, was never an "outdoorsy" type family. We went on the occasional picnic, especially when the Indianapolis 500 was only on the radio and not televised. When my father remarried after my mothers death, his new bride was a fisherperson, camper, gardener, and basically an outdoorswoman. It has been good to get my dad out of the house, since that is where I learned my "so much to do inside, I don't have time to go outside" attitude.
Yesterday, she took G fishing. He loves to fish. When b'f goes, which is about once a year, he always throws the fish back. He is just after the thrill of catching, but has never cleaned a fish. I don't even like touching them, so its not a sport for the squeamish, like me.
Anyway, when I got home, G showed me this real nice catfish that he caught. Grandma said since it was such a good sized one, she didn't want to throw it back. She said if G would help, she would clean it. He agreed and raced outside. I came on home to start on the dreaded homework. He came in a few minutes later, with this horrendous look on his face. His lip was quivering as he said, "I wanted to keep it for a pet. " He was on the verge of tears, so I consoled him. I asked if she was cleaning it, and he told me no, that she was cutting it up. He thought cleaning was washing it off so it could go in a tank. I felt so bad for him. He wants to go fishing again, but I doubt if he brings any home with him. I have a catfish in the fridge, but I won't fix it while he is around. I am afraid to ask if he named it.
I hope this doesn't haunt him. I can't imagine the look on his face when he realized that grandma was going to finish off the life of the fish. Crap. I may not be able to fix it at all. It's part of the end of his innocence.