Kite

We'd toted this silken furled monster around, unassembled, in the back of the Punkin for weeks.  The trolls are on break and their mother has school, so the only sitters they've ever had got called in for overtime.  The last several days have had very gusty winds, and today was no exception.  K picked up the trolls and brought them back to a park near our house, and I walked up to meet them.

As I crested the hill I heard borne on the wind my most euphonious appellation, and see G, arms outstretched, at full gallop barrelling across the soccer field toward me.  One of those images I'll always retain.  Swept him up and hugged him until he gasped, then repeated the process with Miss Thing who was trailing but not by much, due to rough terrain, very short legs, and the added burden of a pink Care Bear.

With the able assistance of our spotter, we repeatedly launched the Giant Wasp Kite until hunger pangs and time constraints bade us sojourn to Pizza Planet.  Miss Thang experienced a minor meltdown on the short ride, but my hard-earned specialty in quelling obstreperous young women came in handy yet again.  By the time I carried my Sweet Baboo into said Planet, she was docile and insisting that I be the one to cut up her pizza, not Nana.  Not at all a slur at Nana, but a nod toward curmudgeonly kindness.

Now, K is off for a floor show in LA; I'm cranking up RadioParadise.com and basking in the memory of another wonderful day.  The cast of the light on the kidlette's hair, the way it turns it more red than auburn; how the wind moved Bella's hair as she clutched the kite string spindle, brave, smiling  and adventurous.  K, indulgent but ever vigilant, under the sparse shade of a ficus.  Today was a pretty good day.