It was a nice summer’s eve in the middle of July at the house that I grew up in. My family had invited my grandparents over for a summer day with us kids. We had done this many times over the years so that when we were older we could look back at it and think of all the laughs we had. My grandparents arrived at our house early in the afternoon, and we had lunch. Then we started swimming in our pool with our grandma watching us while my mom was cleaning up lunch.

“Kids,” my grandma called out, “you kids better not splash me or make me get in that water! I don’t know how to swim, so you kids better know how to.”

Our grandma never really liked the water even though my siblings and I have practically grown up in the water. She would just read her book in the sun, while getting a tan, and then once she received a little too much heat, she would move back into the shade.

“I don’t get how you kids can be in the sun, for so much time. I used to have to work in the fields for my parents. Once I got too much sun I would fake passing out just to get into the shade and some lemonade from my mom,” my grandma said.

As the day started getting dusk, we started turning out tired from playing king of the raft and our skin being shriveled like a raisin. My grandpa had been waiting all day to get ahold of the fishing pole and sit in his favorite plaid chair.

My grandpa said, “Hurry up! We gotta catch us the biggest fish before your brother catches it.”

As the evening went on, we caught fish and kept them in the bucket. While I was fishing, I would be distracted by the worms, and I played with them until I would have my grandma laughing.

“Elizabeth,” my grandma said, “why do you have the worms in your hair? You’re going to have to go jump back in the pool to clean all that dirt out. My, what a laugh you are.”

My grandpa said with excitement, “I bet we caught all of the fish out of that pond tonight. With all these fish we caught makes my stomach growl.”

We walked back to the house and opened up the cardboard table to start skinning the fish of their scales. Once we started, it would get really messy, and our grandma started throwing a fit because of the mess.

“Oh my goodness what a mess this has become. I thought this was going to be easy and quick, Paul,” my grandma said.

My grandpa said, “Oh, Pauline, don’t make a big deal out of something so small. Go inside and grab the butcher’s knife for me, please.”

Once we finished skinning the fish of the scales, my dad started cooking them with my grandpa, while us kids were on the playset in the backyard. We finished eating the fish and went to the back porch to sit on the old white wicker chairs and the swinging bench, looking out at the sun saying its goodbyes until tomorrow.