One year for Easter, I received a kite in my Easter basket. It may or may not have been hidden in the oven in my Grandma's kitchen. The kite had horses on it and I loved it.
It was a WINDY day so we headed out to the alley behind my Grandma's house to let it fly. Being a somewhat cautious child, I did not want my horse kite to fly too high, who knows what could happen so far beyond my reach. My Dad had other ideas. He kept letting out the string until those horses were soaring.
They must have been enjoying the high life a little too much because one of them decided to let go, or maybe the string broke. All I know is, I watched my kite fly off into the gray, while I was stuck on the ground below.
I was devastated. My Dad felt terrible. I thought my kite was gone for good. There were many, many tears.
I don't know how long it took, but I remember standing in Grandma's kitchen by the sink when my Uncle Mike walked through the door with my kite in hand! They had found it in a field down the block. My lost kite was no longer lost.
This year my kids found kites in their Easter baskets at Grandma's house. Even though it was cold and gray they went out to fly them.
They discovered rather quickly that if you fly your kite beside a tree, those sticky branches might grab on and not let go.
I went to help. The kite was hanging and I started pulling on the string. Instead of bringing the kite down, I pulled the kite higher into the tree. The kite went from being a little stuck to a lot stuck.
Thankfully Uncle Clint was watching. He climbed the tree and rescued the kite. The stuck became unstuck.
The kite flying lesson here is obvious, but I'm going to say it anyway: If you ever find a kite in your Easter basket, be sure there is an Uncle around when you fly it.