Disheartenment sucks…
Today I found myself home from work early. Our shop lost power just before 9am this morning and we all ran out of stuff we could do without power. The wind was gusting well into the 30 to 40 MPH range all day, and most surely was the reason for our blackout. The first thing out of my sons mouth after getting home from school was “where’s my shark kite?” A neighbor had gotten him this kite for his birthday last year and we had never had luck making it fly for more than 30 seconds. Even a kid can assume that the kite will fly, along with just about anything else, in THIS wind. So off we go, down to the girls softball field to make a shark fly high in the sky.
As we walk out onto the field, kite and string in hand, his excitement was obvious. I instruct him to take the kite to about midfield and we’ll take a crack at it. When I yell, he lets go of the kite and I ran full steam ahead towards the left field fence. As before, this dumb shark just will not stay in the sky. Every time the wind dies down bellow 5 or 10 MPH, the thing drops out of the sky like it was shot out of the sky by a MIM-23 Hawk. We try this a few more times, then switch places. Finally, we got this fish in the sky. My son was proud. But the fun was short lived as it crashed and burned again. As I am walking this kite to the other side of the ball field, I look back to boo, attempting to give him the green light for another run, but he wasn’t on the end of the string. There he was, with his head down low, slowly walking towards the gate. In astatic form, he had given in and was walking back to the truck. I yelled for him, asking what he was doing. He simply said “I’m going back to your truck.” I didn’t know quite what to do at this point. What was my best course of action? Do I yell at him for just dropping this project like a hot potato, leaving me to clean up the mess? Do I run to him and try to encourage another attempt?
So as I pack up the kite, and the knotty ball of string on his end, he just set there in the truck watching me. I slowly got things gathered up, while in my head I was trying to justify scolding him. By the time I made it back to the truck, I had just decided to drop it. There he sat in the seat, with a tear rolling down his cheek. We had a very short and to the point conversation about it on the way home. His personal failure was enough of a learning lesson, no need to put any salt in the wound.
As we walk out onto the field, kite and string in hand, his excitement was obvious. I instruct him to take the kite to about midfield and we’ll take a crack at it. When I yell, he lets go of the kite and I ran full steam ahead towards the left field fence. As before, this dumb shark just will not stay in the sky. Every time the wind dies down bellow 5 or 10 MPH, the thing drops out of the sky like it was shot out of the sky by a MIM-23 Hawk. We try this a few more times, then switch places. Finally, we got this fish in the sky. My son was proud. But the fun was short lived as it crashed and burned again. As I am walking this kite to the other side of the ball field, I look back to boo, attempting to give him the green light for another run, but he wasn’t on the end of the string. There he was, with his head down low, slowly walking towards the gate. In astatic form, he had given in and was walking back to the truck. I yelled for him, asking what he was doing. He simply said “I’m going back to your truck.” I didn’t know quite what to do at this point. What was my best course of action? Do I yell at him for just dropping this project like a hot potato, leaving me to clean up the mess? Do I run to him and try to encourage another attempt?
So as I pack up the kite, and the knotty ball of string on his end, he just set there in the truck watching me. I slowly got things gathered up, while in my head I was trying to justify scolding him. By the time I made it back to the truck, I had just decided to drop it. There he sat in the seat, with a tear rolling down his cheek. We had a very short and to the point conversation about it on the way home. His personal failure was enough of a learning lesson, no need to put any salt in the wound.
posted by mattandriver at 5:08 PM
2 Comments:
That's really sad. Maybe take him to a kite store and start over? Not all kites are nose-divers.
Well now that's the saddest picture I can imagine. I think it's the kite. Ya'll need to take a trip to Ocean City and get a really fabulous kite. Kites always fly at the beach too!
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