To fly a kite.

Tony must have been praying all night for a windy day, ‘cuz that’s what he got today. He was so excited for the wind so he could fly his kite – his new simple kite we got for him yesterday. Over and over he asked if we could go to the park, and finally, I decided we would go.

At the park, I got the kite ready to fly and directed Tony on where to stand with it. It shot right up into the air, but then flung itself sideways and crash nose first into the ground. Over and over it did this, no matter where we stood in relation to the wind. It was quite frustrating.

But not as frustrating as when it decided to make friends with the top of a tree. The 52 inch wide kite was bouncing around about 40 feet above our heads when it smacked right into the tree. Didn’t I feel like the fool.

As I looked around making sure no one saw what had happen, Tony told me, “Mommy, I’m going to pretend to play baseball while you figure out how to get it down,” and off he danced toward the center of the ball field.

The only thing I could do was pray that the wind would shake the kite loose, and after a few minutes the kite floated down to the ground. Soon there was more soaring and nose diving until I finally had enough. I rolled up the string until there was about six feet left, and the wind caught the kite and flung it up in the air again. This time, because the string was so short, the kite stayed up, and Tony had a blast running around trying to keep the kite up just above his head.

I really think those who fly kites have a talent for it. I discovered I don't.