The funny thing about childhood is the memories we keep. As a child I remember there always being two kites in the trunk of my mom's car. Two kites for the two kids in my family. Two kites always ready to fly if the wind picked up. The funny thing is I can picture those two kites in the trunk as clear as day, yet I can't actually remember flying them.
Memories are a funny thing. I'm sure if I asked my parents about our kite flying they would have loads of stories about carefree days in the park, with picnics. Perhaps we flew them at the beach. But I still hold my memories of those colorful kites in the trunk of my mom's car just as dear to my heart.
Happy Thursday!
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