I’ve taken Jon fishing again since our first trip to the fishery, but I think he’s fished out for a while. It’s a pity, because he seems to be a natural, either that or just really lucky. Back at the fishery and for a while it looked like things were going to pan out in a similar fashion to our last visit. My rod was still in the case and Jon’s offering of two red maggots had been gratefully accepted within less than a minute of the hook going into the water.

This time he knew what he was doing and when the float went down he had the fish hooked in a moment, it was another carp and twice as big as his first one, I got the landing net ready and as he brought it in towards the peg, I slipped the net under and we were soon grinning at each other as he held his latest trophy. This time it was slipped back into the water without protest.

Unfortunately that was where the similarities with the first trip ended. Having caught his fish he handed over his rod and announced that it was my turn. I caught another twenty seven fish, with Jon handling the landing net with enthusiasm, but showing no inclination to accept his rod back. My ‘almost father in law’, Steve, had come along with us and was quietly amused by my frustration as Jon adamantly refused to fish. Eventually as boredom inevitably gained the upper hand I gave in and we packed up.

I’m not worried, he’s only six and there are an awful lot of things to be interested in when you’re six. He tells me very earnestly about Ben Ten and Storm Hawks and shows me his Omnitrix. “Don’t worry dad’” he says spinning the dial, “I’ve tried it out and it won’t really turn me into an alien!”

Ironically, as we drove away from the fishery, I was once again forced to admit that Jon had caught the biggest fish, only one, but still the biggest all the same.