The Kite: A Throwback Thursday Story

When Christopher was going on three years old, I thought I had dodged a bullet. The terrible two's weren't so terrible after all. The worst of him being two was the potty training. Aside from that, the two year old baby bear was a breeze, if you can call having a toddler breeze.

Now the three year old Christopher was a workout.

It had to have been somewhere around going from two naps to one nap or possibly no naps if he didn't sleep in the car, that we thought it was a nice day to fly a kite.  

The Perfect Kite

Christopher's two favorite things were airplanes and dinosaurs. So as a family we went out in search of a kite, which left me sitting in the car with the napping Christopher. I can tell you that it would have taken me a fraction of the time to go in a store to pick out a kite.

Never send the man in to get the kite unless you want some alone time. 

I may be exaggerating if I say it took us hours to go fly a kite. But let's say it took hours. We made more than one stop before Papa Bear found the perfect one, and then we had to get something to eat.  

So Papa Bear did find the perfect kite. It was a Blue Angels kite and the day was perfectly windy for it to fly. Perfect perfect perfect.

As Papa Bear meticulously did whatever with the strings so they wouldn't get tangled, I entertained the growing impatient by the second baby bear. Finally we're all situated. Ready to fly the kite.

The kite is flying, dipping in and out of the wind. All of a sudden Christopher is screaming and crying, on the verge of a serious meltdown. We thought he was afraid of the kite. It was very windy and the kite sometimes crashed to the ground which made him more upset.

Frustrated by all the effort it took to get to this magical moment, and Christopher wanting nothing to do with it, Papa Bear stopped flying the kite. He meticulously wound the strings back in place. We packed up to head home. 

So we get in the car and Christopher is still upset. The kite was in the trunk because we thought he was afraid of it. He was twisting in his carseat and reaching out towards the window and totally not using his words, but Mama Bear interpreted that he WANTED the "airpane".  I asked Papa Bear to "get the kite" and he glared at me in response. 

He shoved the kite in the back seat and a calm silence came over the car in an instant. Yes of course my nerves we shattered. But I am so glad I wasn't too annoyed to take this picture. 



So we never flew that kite again. What happened to it? We ended up hanging it from the ceiling in Christopher's room.  

There's got to be a moral of the story or some kind of lesson huh? Don't buy a kite that's too perfect?

The End