Parenting on Ice

Last Saturday was the last nice day of our fool’s spring, at least for the foreseeable future.

In desperate need of some time outside, with at least an ounce of selfish gain, I organized a bit of a “parenting on ice” outing.

Juggling nap times, drive time and bedtimes, we bought ourselves about a three-hour window of at least being able to catch a fish between four other sets of parents with kids ranging from one month to 8 years old, plus a bonus bird dog.

We sort of intentionally picked a lake that would provide some action for the older kids in the form of endless small perch, and the chance at a larger walleye for the adults if you could fend off the nibbles and luck into one.

Yet, like you’d imagine, most of the time was spent distributing snacks, wiping noses, baiting hooks, pulling sleds and enjoying some adult conversations here and there.

Nobody ever landed a walleye, but the weather was perfect and the company better.

So much so that nobody really utilized the few shacks we erected for warming up and diaper changes.

And while I could care little about 6-inch perch, Fischer seemed to enjoy the concept that he could continuously say “more,” and I could mostly fulfill his wishes in another minute or two of jigging.

If only that were the case with the walleyes.