Ice Fishing

When I was about six, Dad took my sister and I out ice fishing on Dorn Lake. My sister was about two years old, and it was her first time. We harnessed up the dog to the sled and mushed out to the lake. Once we got out onto the lake, Dad got out his hand drill and hatchet and made a hole while my sister watched intently. He pushed the bits of ice off to the side and got his line ready.

My sister looked confused.

"What is it?" Dad asked.

"We're ice fishing." She pointed to the ice he'd brushed aside. "What's wrong with that ice?"