The Highs and Lows of Kite Flying with the Kids

We gave the three older boys kites for Easter. Because we hate ourselves. At least, that’s the conclusion I came to after taking them to fly the stringed demons.

We had gotten the two older boys “fancy” licensed kites of their favorite cartoon characters and the 2-year-old (who I was sure wouldn’t be able to handle kite flying) a cheaper, smaller kite that looked like a jet.

Upon unpacking the kites, I was happy to see the assembly was virtually non-existent for the two older boys’ kite. But I was disappointed and a tad embarrassed to see the cheap kite required no assembly at all: because it was literally the size of a dollar bill.

Which is ironic, because had I tied a string to a safety pin and clipped it to a dollar bill it would have flown better than this kite.  And it would have cost about the same.

So we took the piece of trash on a string as well as the other two kites to a nearby field on an appropriately windy day and prepared to have all the fun the kids on the packaging were having.

I hold the 5-year-old’s red kite in the air and he takes off running to get some lift. And he continues to run as the kite drags across the ground like some sort of medieval criminal being dragged to his execution.

I then get the 4-year-old’s kite aloft and he also takes off. His kite actually stays airborne for a few seconds before plummeting to the ground near the 2-year-old. Who then proceeds TO STOMP ON THE KITE AS IF IT WERE ON FIRE.

I run over telling him to stop and am informed by the 5-year-old that this is what the 2-year-old does. Apparently, during a previous experience with kites, the 2-year-old established his role as kite stomper and this is inexplicably acceptable to the older two. I am mind-boggled.

I go over to assist the 5-year-old getting the red kite up again and we actually get the kite way in the air. When I turn back, it looks like the 4-year-0ld is playing cat’s cradle with the string to his kite and everyone else. It’s wrapped around his body, the 2-year-old’s feet, and the tail of the kite is wrapped around the stroller and on the baby’s face. I’m at a loss. I could not have looked away for more than 30 seconds.

I get that mess undone and get his kite in the air. This is about the time I realize the 5-year-old is way too close for comfort to some power lines. I get him moved way away from that area and that gives the 4-year-old time to create the most insane set of knots in his kite string I’ve ever seen. I mean, it’s hard to see how a person can do this accidentally. He is, of course, complaining that he wants his kite as high as his brothers. I direct him to the troubleshooting departing (my wife) and go to admire the 5-year-old’s kite that is as high as it can go.

I feel bad for the 2-year-old since his kite was garbage, and ask the 5-year-old if he will let his little brother fly his kite for a minute. He’s resistant (and after witnessing the kite stomping incident I can understand his concern) and says he’s afraid he will let the kite go. I say it will be fine and hand the 2-year-old the kite handle. He makes the cutest face as he looks up at the kite. Then he makes the most devious face he can muster as he makes eye contact with me and intentionally lets the handle go.

The 2-year-old is ecstatic, the 5-year-old is distraught, and I’m running as fast as I can to catch the handle that is getting higher and farther away with every second.

I manage to catch it about 50 yards later and bring it back to the 5-year-old who is saying, “I told you, I told you he was going to let it go.”

After about 20 minutes, my wife has just finished untangling the 4-year-old’s insane knot and all the kids are saying they’re hot and thirsty and want to go home. I couldn’t agree more.

With the exception of the 5-year-old’s kite (before it was let loose) the kite flying wasn’t much of a success. I’ll say this though: for as crummy as it went, the boys all asked to go fly kites again the next day. And that’s enough of a silver lining that I might just buy kites again. Next Easter.