Well the boy scouts took my kids deep sea fishing. Translation. My Ex took my sons on a scouting event on the ocean for fishing. It was just for a day. And I could have used the opportunity for many fun things.
But the point of this blog is to talk about AFTER the fishing trip.
At about 5 pm the Ex drops Luke off from the trip and I hear Luke yell up to me, “Mom! Look at all the fish I caught!”
Fish he caught! ?! And then it sinks in…. Oh, no, no, no!
Running down I hope to force the Ex to take custody of these things and I realize instead, I need to be supportive of my son who is looking at me all proud.
I have him put his baggie of fish in a pot, in case it leaks and I scowl at this bag. There doesn’t seem to be heads but there is definitely tails and skin. And I don’t have any idea what to do with this. I am immediately irritated at the Ex who is probably gleeful knowing this is causing me stress.
See, I don’t like fishing. I know how to cook a few types of fish, but only one do I do well. And I certainly do NOT know how to gut, cut or prepare a fresh caught fish. I’m a “bought it at the market all ready to cook” kinda gal.
The underside of the whole fish
But I cannot just abandon my son to his task of cooking these things, so we take on the challenge of what to do with them. Luke’s been told to cut off the tail & fins. He’s also told they are sand diggers. What I find in the bag is a bunch of whole fish without heads but with tails & skin on one side. He tries to saw off the tails & fins which creates a lovely mess but I let him do it. Then we throw two in a pan and try to fry these suckers up.
Cuz Luke’s wants to eat them. Of course.
The rest I tell him we can freeze. And I get out two containers. Which we fill up and I turn to him and say, “How many did you catch?”
Its two eyes on the TOP of its head!
“Eight,” he says proudly. “But Evan caught 7” And it is then that I really hate my Ex. Cuz he has included Evan’s 7 in this bag of disgustingness. Which, ewwwwww, includes one with the head still on! (that one I’ve put in a baggie and taken to my mother’s house SHE knows how to deal with a fresh caught fish & can choose to throw it away if she wants!)
“Your father could have at least kept the ones Evan caught since he’s the big fisherman,” I grumble.
“He caught his own,” Luke explains and I shut up to make the best of it.
Good-heartedly he eats his fried fish plain and says later, “Mom! I figured out a way to easily take the bones out!”
Yea for Biology class.
But at least now when I cook meat and he doesn’t want it, I can tell him to fry up one of his fish he caught. I suppose that’s SOME sort of bright side.
gack!