© 2011 Aaron Atkinson

Fish and Chips

I’m 12. Tim’s 10. And Dad has just shaved off his beard.

We’ve arrived at McDonald’s. Our last stop for a quick bite to eat before we men spend the weekend fishing the St. Lawrence. Dad and I order hamburgers. Tim, McNuggets.

Minutes later we’re at the marina. Dad goes inside to rent a boat. Tim and I can wait no longer and we make our way out onto the dock. The water couldn’t be clearer. Clinging to the bottom are strands of leafy green lake weeds. We haven’t bought bait yet, so Tim and I each hook on the only thing edible within arm’s reach… the leftover french fries.

They work like magic. Cast after cast we feel the telltale TAP TAP TAP of a hungry perch. And by the time Dad returns we’ve caught and released more than a dozen small fish.

While it only lasted about 15 minutes, I’ll never forget our McDonald’s perch, nor will I forget the joy they brought to my brother and I.

Life was good.


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