Matthew and his friends have probably been out almost every single day since the 6 weeks holidays started.
Whether a few hours in the afternoon, a full 6am to 8pm stint or a 24hour all-nighter, he has definitely spent more hours fishing than he has ever done previously.
However, we had a rather different experience list night.
I dropped him over at his new club lake and helped him and his friend Lewis set up for another 24 hour session. I said my goodbyes, wished them both luck and jumped back in the car for the short drive home and a waiting roast dinner. I wasn’t even half way through my meal when the phone went; it was Matthew,
‘Quick Dad, you have to come back over, Lewis has got a hook stuck in his finger…’!
I quickly covered my half-eaten plate of Sunday roast (which I has suddenly lost my appetite for) grabbed our small first aid bag and shot back to the lake.
When I arrived Matthew was sat next to his rather pale looking friend.
He certainly had got a hook stuck in his finger, most of it had embedded itself deep into his fore finger and it certainly wasn’t coming out any time soon, at least not by me. This definitely needed a trip to A&E. I did what little I could do, got him to sit down, washed his finger as best I could with some sterile water and made sure he wasn’t feeling faint.
Lewis’ mum then walked him back to their car and off they went for the inevitably long wait in the reception of A&E, Lewis commenting that he’ll be back.
An hour or so later, Lewis rang Matthew and it was clear from the conversation that he wouldn’t be coming back tonight. Now we had a decision to make. I certainly wasn’t going to leave Matthew on his own overnight and it was already getting dark. So, did I stay for the night with him or did we pack up and head home.
Thankfully, for me at least, and quite unlike Matthew, he suggested we pack up and go home, albeit in the dark. No sooner had it said that then, the heavens opened…..’Brilliant.!’
So there we were, the pair of us, in the dark, slowly getting soaked, packing up his trolley while trying to stop his equipment getting soaked.
Slipping and sliding our way back through the mud, heaving his gear along the bank and back to the car, we popped open the boot loaded up and drove home.
As I sat there, the rain lashing at the windscreen and the occasional drip of water rolling down my face and dropping off the end of my nose, I did actually find it quite funny (the tablets must be working.. 😉
‘I’m really sorry Dad’ he said.
I looked over at him, equally drenched and smiled, ‘Don’t worry about it Matthew, just remember what your mum and dad do for you, at all hours of the day and night come rain or shine. We are always there.’
‘I know, thanks Dad’ he said.
The next morning, Matthew rang me in work to say that he’d spoken to Lewis, he was fine and that the doctors had ‘yanked it out’. Happily he still had all ten fingers and I’m sure they’ll both be back out on the bank before too long.