AJ was up at the crack of dawn this morning, which had us inhaling two pots of coffee just to keep up with him. After protracted games of hide and seek, basketball, and �Snoopy� (where AJ pretends to be Lucy � �She�s my favorite� -- and the other characters are assigned at random to his dad and I), I plopped him in his red snowboots and marched him down to the pond to feed the ducks.

Once out of the house, AJ was surprisingly contemplative this morning. We strolled down the hill to the pond listening to our boots crunching in the snow and noticing the rabbit and deer tracks criss-crossing our neighbors� lawns. The ducks were very happy to see us and we were quickly surrounded. �Hi, ducks!� AJ screamed cheerfully, stuffing one cube of bread into his mouth and tossing another in the general direction of a bickering pair of mallards. �Stop fighting!!� We emptied our pockets of bread and walked over the small bridges into the preserve where we found some good-sized sticks for pretend fishing. We camped out on our favorite bridge, nicely hidden from the street and in view of several impressively-sized fallen trees, and cast our imaginary lines. �I caught one!� announced AJ about three seconds after we arrived. He pulled out his imaginary fish and held it up for my inspection. �Wow,� I said and with a profound lack of imagination asked, �How big is it?� AJ examined the air below his outstretched hand. �It�s thirty one hundred.� �Wow,� I said again, being uncertain of whether this measurement was the fish�s weight or length, �That�s huge! I think it�s bigger than you!� He giggled and dropped the fish in the invisible bucket between us. He caught another �thirty one hundred.� His third fish, however, was not so impressive. �It�s too small. I�m throwing it back.�

Everything AJ knows about fishing he knows from watching Little Bear and from seeing neighborhood boys out with their dads on Sunday morning. His father and I are clueless. We fished again in silence. �What do you hear?� I asked him. �Birdies,� he replied. �I love hearing the birdies. It sounds like spring. Do you hear the water? What does it sound like?� He thought for a second and replied, �It�s making me thirsty.�

�Maybe we should go home and have a snack.�

�No, I�m still fishing.�

�One more fish, and we should head back.�

�Okay.�

There were no bites for a while, then he caught one that took a while to reel in. �How big is that one,� I asked. He peered at it and said, �Look,� pointing to the side of the invisible fish, �It says it�s �thirty one hundred.� And it says �Wild� and �Thirsty.��

How convenient to have its traits enumerated on its skin. I asked, �Are you wild and thirsty too?�

He grinned and said, �Yeah� and started yelling as he turned and ran back down the path.

As we got back to the duck pond, he noticed a bench and insisted on sitting on it for a while. We played I-spy. We watched the ducks take off and land and watched them turn upside-down looking for food. Finally, it was time to head home. �Bye-bye, ducks! See you later! I�m sorry we don�t have any more bread. Maybe next time!�

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