Kite flying is one of those childhood activities that has always slightly eluded me. I try oh so hard, and yet have only gotten a kite up in the air a handful of times. It seems the conditions are never quite right. Or, more likely, the kite flyer is never quite right.
I took the children to the park and while we were there I thought it seemed like perfect kite flying conditions. So we drove home, got the kite and went back. Well, after about five minutes, Michael says, "I don't think it's gonna work mom." Now keep in mind that I am doing this by myself with a baby strapped to my front. Not the easiest thing to do. I told Michael to shush and quit being pessimistic. So I continued in my kite flying efforts, running back and forth on the field, trying not to curse every time the string got tangled and the kite came crashing down. Katherine happily ran after me, but Michael, being the realist, ditched me to go play on the equipment. I'm sure I looked quite ridiculous running around with a kite that never got more than fifteen feet up in the air. And in the end, I gave up, packed the kids up, came home and put everybody down for a nap. Katherine was quite dissappointed and I told her maybe we'll try when the big kids get home from school. Kite flying isn't really that hard, is it? There's probably some technic unbeknownst to me. Perhaps my 8 year old will shed some light on the subject this afternoon. Or maybe my neighbors will just get another good laugh at the woman running around like a crazy lady again!