CootieBoy Doesn’t Really “Get” Flying Kites

After CootieBoy and I got home from our children’s play in Charlotte (which he loved) we had a quick lunch and then popped over to a local field to try and fly his kite. There was just enough of a breeze that after my first four attempts I finally got it up in the sky about 20 feet. However, CootieBoy doesn’t really understand that the string needs to stay taut, and proceeded to let out a bunch of it from the rod, causing the kite to come crashing to the ground. I wound up the string on the rod again, and we got the kite (I keep wanting to call it a flag so if I switch to the term “flag” later in the post, just know I’m talking about the kite) back up in the air again. But once again CootieBoy was not happy that I was holding the string (in an effort to keep it taut as I raised it into the air) and got snippy with me.

“I want to go HOME,” he pouted.

“You don’t want the fly the kite?” I asked.

“I can do it MYSELF!” he yelled.

“Fine, knock yourself out.”

So I dropped everything to the ground and let him “do it himself” which involved much confusion on his part when a simple toss of the kite into the air didn’t result in a majestic takeoff. Stifling a laugh, I picked up the flag and said, “Okay, run that way!” He grinned and took off running, but once again let out so much string that the flag went airborne only a few seconds before landing back on Earth.

At this point I was determined to get that thing in the air, and not just because there were people watching at this point. So ignoring CootieBoy, I quickly wrapped up the string, held the rod in my hand and went running. I managed to get it about 20 feet in the air again, but CootieBoy was NOT HAVING IT and flounced on the ground in a near-tantrum and demanded to be taken home.

So I landed the kite, broke it down, loaded the boy back in the car and drove home. I kept the kite in the car, so that we can try again after church tomorrow.