The kite we gave Emma for her birthday is the WORST kite ever. All week we've been talking about how, when papa gets home, we're going to the park to fly the kite. She must've said, "Kite? Park? Papa? Fun! Play! Fly kite!!" to me about fifty times a day. Well, today we headed to the park but we couldn't get the kite to fly. We decided to trek over to a nearby bluff, which is probably the highest point around for miles. It was super windy up there, but after an hour of flinging the kite up in the air and running into the wind at breakneck speed, still no luck. By the end poor Emma was huddled under a blanket in the wagon muttering "home...home...home", probably wishing she had never even gotten the stupid kite. Steve eventually hurled the dumb thing into a nearby trash can and we headed home. We're going to buy a different kite and see if we have better luck. Neither Steve nor I have flown a kite for several few years, but we do not remember it being so difficult. We are certain it was the kite's fault, and not user error.
Today we were coloring and Steve started to get annoyed because Emma was drawing on his page. (Seriously, how old is that guy?) He put her on his shoulders, where she stayed and intently watched him color the rest of his picture. I think this is so cute.