While their Dad was out running 10k somewhere in Timberland, us girls went kite flying at an open field near our village. It was actually an event sponsored by Mead Johnson and for only P300 per participant, you get a kite kit and you also give a donation to kids with disabilities.
The girls colored their kites and wrote Father’s Day love messages on them.
Finally, in the field, my nasal voice, which was brought about by my clogged nose, got worse from all the cheering I did to my girls.
The girls managed to make the kite fly high but it would also nose dive quickly. Then they’d run again, make the kite fly a bit before it would crash to the ground.
I wanted to tell them to unfurl the string some more to make it longer, let loose, or tug when necessary. But that sort of cancels the very idea behind kite flying, doesn’t it? So I just cheered on and enjoyed the sight of the girls as they discover the joy of tugging and pulling, of invariably controlling and letting go and of succeeding and failing as well. And finally, of trying and trying again.