Writing is Fun
You could see the leaves shifting in the wind. I should have watched the birds battling against the current that would make my day a bad one. That would have given me a clue as to what would happen.
Weekends were fun when I got to spend them with my dad. Sometimes we would go riding all day on the motorcycle. We would stay home and practice shooting our compound bows. Hitting the bulls-eye always gave me the feeling of winning a championship. No matter what we did, it was fun to spend time with my dad.
This weekend we were going to fly our new kite together. It was a magnificent kite with red stripes, white stripes, and blue stars. It even had an eagle picture on it. The long flowing tail could be imagined as an eagle’s tail. I couldn’t wait to fly the new kite.
Mom and dad were at work and I was at grandma’s house. My house was next door and grandma couldn’t see in the backyard. When I went to my house, I saw the kite. No, I couldn’t wait. I ran outside with the kite and as I held the kite up, running with excitement, I let it go. The kite went up into the air the first time. I let out the string and the kite went up, up, and up way high. Dad had told me that the wind needed to be just right to fly a kite. Not enough wind and the kite would leave the ground. Too much wind and the kite would break. The excitement of my new kite flying lasted almost a minute, maybe two. It broke! Down the kite came, crashing to the ground. My heart crashed too.
I picked up the kite and ran to the house. What to do? I put the kite in the bottom of the dirty clothes hamper and ran back to grandma’s house. It wouldn’t be found for a long time. I didn’t know mom did laundry every day. She found the kite ten minutes after she got home. Then she told dad.
That weekend dad did chores. We didn’t do anything at all. I didn’t get paddled or scolded. The worst punishment of all was not getting to spend time with my dad that weekend. I didn’t listen to dad and now I don’t remember ever flying kites with him.