Sometimes, we went on holiday to the west coast of Scotland where the islands are called Rum, Muck and 'Egg'! Once, Daddy took me fishing. I had never been fishing before.
Just when I was sure that there would be no fish, there was a tugging on my line and Daddy was shouting and laughing at me to pull it in. Huge, ugly, flopping and flipping - I just wanted a goldfish. "Get it away. Put it out." But I did catch it. Me, not Daddy.
On the way home, something was not right. Daddy was worried and rowing as hard as he could. I didn't have a turn of the oars. I sat, silent and small in the bottom of the boat. When we got back, Mummy was on the beach, packing up the baby and the green rug.