kra2287
The hook. The object that was so firmly planted in my forearm after my daughter made her 5th attempt at casting her Minnie Mouse fishing pole, proved that this fishing trip was not only a bad idea, but also a small victory for my child because she had finally caught something.
I use to the the biggest, most satisfying rise when I was one of those "20 Somethings" girls who based every stupid and insignificant detail of their life on the social scene.