I think I've found a possible solution. All I have to do is wait until
I feel safe or comfortable enough to put the little guy on the rocks with a rod in his hand, and then maybe I can relive or revive some of those desires that remain dormant inside of me.
That's when again, this thing called balance or more like sacrifice comes into play. I know I won't be chasing Stripes all night then taking the little guy early morning scuppin', toggin, flukin', etc//etc/...somethings gotta give, and I'm sure It'll be me.
,, I knew I'd be making sacrifices when visions of dirty-diapers were still but a twinkle in me eye, but I guess I never looked this deep into it. Sometimes I wish I was the type of father who cared less about being involved as much, and just let the mother pick up my slack...but I just can't.
I laugh to,,, or rather
at myself when I think about all the juggling I had to do last year just to fish when I did...and I thank my friends who waited around while I wrapped up daddy-duties for the night.
Although Ross.........perhaps a boat is more of a complete answer.
