I had a turning point of sorts last weekend. I know my boys are getting older and will be men someday. But I am still unsure of how I am to deal with all this. I grew up in a single parent home, with my mom and my sister. My dad was prominent in our lives and a phone call away, but we didn't live with him. I've had boyfriends and husbands, but I don't think that is the same as having to raise a boy, or in my case, two boys.
So last weekend, my boyfriend took us all camping in the motorhome, towing a boat for fishing with our bikes inside of the boat. He planned it all, with the fishing poles, extra propane, and bacon and eggs for our breakfast. We found the perfect spot at Howard Lake, nestled in the trees, with our own little dock for the boat. Later on, his brother Paul joined us for a BBQ, then all the 'men' went fishing on the lake. I stayed and read and knitted (my new hobby), and watched them with binoculars. (I'm still a mom and my boys are on a boat in water that is over their heads).
Well, one of my boys caught a fish. His very first fish. Now, one of things you may not know about me, which has brought me much scrutiny and negative comments over the past, so now I try to hide it, is that I'm a vegetarian. It's not a big deal to me, but yikes, is it a big deal to others! Anyways, I know that the moment has come for me to congratulate this future man with his catch. And so I do, "way to go darling!". I got out the frying pan and butter and took it out to the BBQ. My boyfriend Len, and his brother, were offering professional fishing advice on how to cut and clean this prized fish. They then proceeded to cook it and eat it, and I kept reading.
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