8 years, 5 months.
Perhaps it was a perfect coincidence that as you were preparing your class presentation for the following week, there happen to be a perfectly windy and rainy Sunday afternoon.
You wanted to take your kite out in the perfect environment, but neither Mommy nor I wanted to go outside and get wet with you.
So I suggested a compromise:
You got to go outside and fly your kite in the field behind our house, while I supervised from your bedroom window overlooking the scene.
Granted, it didn’t take too long before the wind caused the string for your kite to catch itself in a knot that was impossible to untie.
But at least you were able to feel like a boy who was getting to break the rules in some way.