It was the kind of Sunday afternoon when all I wanted to do was lie down and “rest” my eyes. We had just gotten home, and after singing in the church choir and teaching Sunday school to rambunctious sixth graders, the couch was calling my name. But alas, when you are the mother of little girls, lying down is not an option. Let me take that back; lying down is an option if you know that two certain little girls are going to start jumping on the same couch you are lying on. Ed was no help; he was outside spraying the heck out of the dandelions in the yard. I put on my jacket and got out the kites.
It was the kind of Sunday afternoon where the wind felt just right. Gusts of wind were already tugging at the kite in the parking lot. Getting our sea turtle into the air took little effort, and both the girls were able to hold the kite string as the kite soared above them. It wasn’t too long, however, before the wind died down. The kite was not catching a breath of air. We walked over to another field, where there was more open space and less trees to block the wind. But then the rain set in. As we jogged back to the parking lot, the taller little girl lagged behind, crying bitterly. Her afternoon of kite flying was at an end.
It was the kind of Sunday afternoon where frozen pizzas were thrown into the oven and a DVD was thrown into the player. We snuggled under blankets, tears dried, little heads slightly rain-damp. The DVD made us laugh, the pizza filled our tummies, but it was the snuggling that helped ease the disappointment of a rainy afternoon.
Wishing for a kite-flying kind of Sunday afternoon to come around soon,