"Mama," my eight-year-old son said. "I'm going to go fly a kite."
"I thought your kite fell apart last year and ended up getting tossed," I replied.
"It did. I'm going to make a new one."
Okay. I knew this was going to be interesting.
It was indeed interesting. I went out to the garage about fifteen minutes later and discovered my son playing with his fishing rod. At the end of the line was a paper dangled from the hook.
"Do you like my new kite?"
I looked at that thing. "Does it fly?"
We went out into the wind. The paper blew into the air and whipped around, just like a kite.