Tonsils are not for fishing.

Tonsils are not for fishing. In fact, no one uses tonsils for fishing.

A long time ago, when Boy George was in the news for music and not sexual kidnapping, my father had his tonsils removed. I don't remember the particulars of it, but I do remember seeing his tonsils in a little plastic jar. They looked like the balls of pork inside of wontons. Up on his dresser they sat, floating in some preservation liquid and I was absolutely enthralled with them.

They soon went missing. I asked my father where they were, and he told me he took them fishing. Tonsils make amazing bait, he said. Tonsils are the bait of a lifetime.

For decades I firmly believed that if a fisherman was lucky he could have the chance of baiting up his own tonsils. A delicacy for fish all over the world, and one no fish could refuse. Not everyone would have this incredible chance to fish with their own tonsils, to entice a fish with a precious lure that you only get two of in one lifetime. I imagined fishermen saving their tonsils for years for the most important fishing tournaments, or last-time fishing trips with Grandpa before he completely submits to dementia. Graduations and births could be celebrated with gifts of a tonsil or two. Some avid fishermen could have prized fish cut open before they are stuffed, and the tonsil used to catch them retrieved from their bellies, dipped in plastic and preserved to be mounted on a plaque with the fish in a still-life taxidermy masterpiece. Selfish fishermen, angry at their families, would be buried with them rather than pass them on to a loved one causing much hurt, grief and disappointment.

I don't really fish, and still have my tonsils hanging out in the back of my throat. Aside from this fleeting obsession when I was around 5, I have never spent much time thinking about tonsils and fishing. It never really occurred to me again until yesterday when I was at work and a man was discussing the appendectomy he had the weekend before.

Any sort of removal surgery intrigues me. I've always wanted to see what was removed. On television surgeries my favourite part is when the doctor says "Ok, here it is people" and lifts up the offending and recently discarded body part for everyone to see, or spreads it out with his hands for the camera. Even better is when he/she gives more details, like "As you can see, the tumour was feeding off of this blood vessel...". Wanting to live vicariously through this newly de-appendixed man, I asked him the first question that came to mind - Did you see it?

He said no, and that he would have liked to. He said he also never had a chance to see his tonsils when he had them removed years ago.

Not one to miss an opportunity to look like a fuckwit, I said "You never even got to take them fishing?". He started laughing hysterically and asked me what the hell I was talking about. I said that some people use their tonsils as bait, but my confidence at that point was waning and every other little fib my parents forced me to believe growing up started popping up in my mind like unwanted ex-boyfriends on a Friend's Request page. If you swallow your gum it'll stick to your ribcage. If you make that face too often, it'll stick like that. People use tonsils for fishing.

I did a quick google search, which confirmed my suspicions - I had been had. For 25 years.

Word of the Day: Interlard
Used in a sentence: Rather then removing the infected length of lower intestine as agreed to, the doctor decided that interlarding the kidneys with a Tickle Me Elmo would be funnier.