When my oldest daughter was about 5 (she's driving now), I took her to a trout pond somewhere in south King County.
The rod was a broomstick with about 6 feet of 20# mono attached to one end and a snelled hook at the other. We rolled a doughball onto the hook and she dropped it into the water. After about two seconds' worth of violent splashing, she had a fish on. She pulled in a nice 15-16 inch RB that was hooked right through its eye. Blood everywhere, she immediately dissolved into hysteria, tearfully urging me to go to the attendant to get a band-aid for the poor fish. Needless to say that was the first and last time we went fishing together. Fast-forward to a couple years ago. I managed to foul hook an aggressive RB right in the eye, which came out of its socket as I pulled the fish in to release it. Did the fish die? Probably. While I like to think there is some difference between what happened 12 years ago at the trout pond and what happened to that poor RB, in reality it's just a matter of degrees. My daughter still thinks that as long I continue to fish, I'm a trout murderer, no matter how I rationalize it. While the foul-hooked RB was obviously a fluke, it became a poignant reminder to crimp my barbs, play and land fish quickly, and not fish when water temps are high. Kent Lufkin
