The Usual Bet

  I have a friend Michael who lives in Branson, Missouri. As a kid his family would take him to a resort on Tablerock in August every year. It was a great way to celebrate the love of family and Michael always looked forward to the lake vacations.


When he grew up he carried on the tradition and took his wife and kids to the same area each August. His children enjoyed these vacations as much as he did growing up and it really helped to bond a close family even closer. But, as happens these days Michael’s kids grew up and moved away to different states. He recently told me about the first time that he took his daughter fishing at age five. As he baited her hook he asked, "The usual bet?"
Little Marcee looked up and asked, "What’s that?"


"One dollar for the first fish, one dollar for the biggest fish and one dollar for the most fish." Her Dad explained. 
"Okay!" Marcee chirped. "Usual bet."


As luck would have it, Marcee won all three categories that day and had a knack for winning those; usual bets, down through the years.


Not long ago Marcee flew back in to visit her family in Branson. Michael picked her up at the airport in Springfield and on the drive home he asked her, "Anything special you want to do while you’re here?"


"Yeah, lets stop and get a fishing license, it’s been years since I fished."


Michael was a bit surprised but stopped and picked up the license and later that evening he and his daughter sat on a dock on the calm waters of Tablerock preparing to drown some innocent worms. 
"Usual bet?" Marcee asked.


It had been many years since the last time he took his daughter fishing and their little bet had slipped his mind. 
"What’s the usual bet?" he asked.


"You know…a dollar for the first fish, a dollar for the biggest and a dollar for the most fish. The usual bet." 
In an instant all those wonderful memories came flooding back to Michael. The first time he took her fishing and all the times after that when his sweet little girl looked forward to spending time all alone with her dad.


"My gosh, you mean you still remember that?" Michael beamed.


"Do I remember it?" Marcee chuckled. She reached in her ancient, rusted metal tackle box and pulled out an old plastic bottle made to hold sinkers. She tossed it to Michael who opened it to find three rolled up dollar bills inside.