Winter pushed its way into New Jersey today. Its blustering winds and bitter temperatures make us second guess global warming for the moment. The trees are dipping and swaying to the song the swingset moans as leaves scurry across the lawn searching for safer ground while praying they aren't torn to bits with one puff of Old Man Winter's icy breath. It's perfect. We collect the kids and head out.
The first two stops are fruitless. We are discouraged but determined and then, JACKPOT! For $1.99 each, we have purchased enough smiles and peels of excited laughter to last the week. We bought kites. The kids attack the wrappers as if they were steaks and the kids themselves were starving hyenas. They giggle and marvel at the plastic birds. The drive to the park is only two minutes but they are craning their necks and fogging up the windows with "Are we there yet?".
A couple of snowflakes zip by, crashing into the windshield as we pull in. Cheech opens the door and nearly has his arm dislocated by a "warning gust". We exchange cautious glances but the children are bouncing and tying strings as quickly as their nimble fingers will allow. Off to the field we go: into battle; the boys against the girls and the trash talk begins. Bets are made. Who can get it up faster? Who can keep it up longer? How long are my husband and I going to be able to talk dirty like this without the children understanding? (hee hee.) I am the launcher. So is Cheech. This has everything to do with pride and nothing to do with quality time spent with our beloved children.
"Ready?" He screams at me with a snarl on his normally gentle face.
"Bring it, you wussy." I shout back but the wind literally makes me eat my words. My lungs are full of air; too much. I begin to cough.
"Get set GO!--Run Boo RUUUN!" he viciously laughs and the game has begun. Maddie takes off like a shot. Both kids are runnin to beat the band and the wind snatches up the kites.
"Come on Mad, run! Go Go GO!" I'm jumping up and down like an idiot clapping my gloved hands. This is partly because I'm having so much fun and partly because I am trying to keep warm. It has dropped what feels like twenty degrees in the last five minutes. The wind picks up. Snowflakes are jabbing my exposed cheeks at a rate of almost 40miles per hour. My eyes are tearing but I am truly unsure if it's from the wind shoving my eyelids open abmormally wide (so it appears that I have contacts which are too tight) or there is that much pain from the sting of Mother Nature's lil white blowdarts. JEEZE!
The wind picks up some more and the snow keeps coming. We are having this little party in what seems to have developed into a blizzard. The kites are dancing and flapping wildly. We are all laughing and running. Ben's kite takes a pitch, a swerve and a dive. Cheech is running after it to get it back into battle ASAP. Maddie's makes a similar move only around the pegs of a nearby fence. This is going to cost me time. Crap! I'm losing. I dash over and begin to untangle the wounded bird as it beats and thrashes against its captor. I'm screaming over tsunami grade winds to tell Maddie to roll the string. She is running toward me, but she isn't rolling. There is a billowy cloud of twine coming at me. I hear Cheech laughing in anticipation above the roar of winter.
Sure enough there is an explosion of air and it pitches Maddie to the ground. In short order, the string, the kite and her mother begin to take off. The kite is escaping, but as it fights for freedom, the string wraps tightly around me causing rope burn. I can feel the layers of my flesh peeling quickly away as the kite tries to gain altitude. I think I see smoke coming from my body. I can scream for help, but no one will hear me, so I am simply hissing and hopping about trying to "put myself out". Maddie is trying to get back into the game by spinning me around as if I am the spool. "Hurry Mommy Hurry!" she's yelling. Hurry? What the .....? Hurry! I am about to tell her where to put all that "hurry" when I see it. The second kite has invaded our turf and is heading straight for me.
Rich is running as fast as he can to get to me, still laughing. I don't believe for one minute he wants to help. He's just trying to get close enough for a picture with his friggin phone!
I'm all tangled up in string, kite, kid and fence. I'm hopping around. There is slight break in the weather and my son's kite crashes into the ground next to me like a lawn dart. It's nose thrust so deeply into the earth, my husband must use two hands to pull it out. We survey the dammage: irreparable. The spines are broken and twisted, the strings are knotted and dangling like entrails. There are only pathetic half-hearted motions from our broken plastic birds.
Rich is laughing hysterically. My body burns from that $1.99 kite string that has left me bloody and smouldering. My son and daughter announce they can no longer feel their legs and want hot chocolate. After a few moments, they break their mother free of the carnage and we head for the trashcan; The boneyard. As we say goodbye to our fine "feathered" friends, I look down to see about four other casualties twisted and broken. A couple of them also have tinges of pink along the string. There are others like me, who have suffered. I salute you, my brave brothers and sisters who also fought this battle today.
We pile into the car, still laughing and arguing about who won or lost. I look up and smile as one of the broken wings gives a last timid wave from the boneyard. "Thanks" I whisper and we head home.
Have a great day. Thank you for coming, I enjoyed your visit and hope you did too.
