I’ll Give You 10 Bucks If You Tell Mom I Caught It.

- Image by David_Howell via Flickr
This post goes back a few years, like about 45 years.
My younger brother and I were fosters kids and for a few years we lived on a farm in central Ontario. They had a huge farm and a river ran through the back of the farm where the forest began. We spent as much time as we could playing around the river and jumping off the bridge. It was a lot of fun and great memories of time that wasn’t the best for us.
Well one day we were back at the river and followed it to the bridge. People fished the river all the time but this particular day these two men were fishing pike and had left their young son up on the bridge with his little fishing rod, expecting him to just play while they, the men, fished.
About 20 minutes, well I am just guessing as I was just a kid back then myself, but it wasn’t long and this little kid started screaming that the had a fish. His dad and the other guy came running. John and I were laughing and almost as excited as the kid was.
I remember thinking that the kid was going to fall in because he had his fishing rod and half his body sticking through the fence railing.
His dad thought it was a catfish and didn’t really hurry even though this little guy was holding of for dear life. Then the fish jumped and it was a pretty big pike and not just a catfish. That dad all of a sudden started moving a lot faster.
Them managed to catch the pike and then the next thing I heard was the dad trying to convince the kid to give him the pike and to not tell his mother he caught it. He even offered the kid money but money didn’t mean anything to him at his age.
While I was sitting here thinking back to that day I remember that one year John and I had fireworks. I was sticking the little firecrackers in the railing of the bridge and lighting them. It was great fun until I realized that the bridge had caught fire.
I did my best to get water from the river and put it out but all I had was my hat and it wouldn’t hold much water by the time I got back on the bridge. This bridge was right close to the the next side road, fortunately. A guy driving by on the other road saw the smoke and myself freaking out and saved the day.
I never told my foster parents as it would have been a death sentence and that guy never told on us either.
That old wooden bridge has long since been replaced by a steel bridge.
![Reblog this post [with Zemanta]](http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=700d22de-9d58-43a5-8da7-f7d54371633a)

![Reblog this post [with Zemanta]](http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=797e2434-91cc-4617-9453-448958bbec03)

![Reblog this post [with Zemanta]](http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=b2b6c2ec-8493-4e89-a5f6-e8179442dec5)

![Reblog this post [with Zemanta]](http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=f445ef61-b936-4597-a04f-085c026e21c9)
![Reblog this post [with Zemanta]](http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=b4950b38-5000-4abd-8e75-965cc72fa776)
![Reblog this post [with Zemanta]](http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=05d34877-14d8-45fb-8770-72fc236f5aa8)
![Reblog this post [with Zemanta]](http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=3d7fd170-a62c-46f1-9ac7-1adc029115f4)

![Reblog this post [with Zemanta]](http://img.zemanta.com/reblog_e.png?x-id=287494c9-a671-45ae-aca6-4e049ec9ec62)