Son #1 got a remote control helicopter for Christmas. My husband, Son #1, and my brother took it into the backyard to play. The helicopter buzzed around the yard like a drunken wasp as each one took their turn. They had to be very careful, though, because the slightest breeze would send the waspish helicopter sailing away. The first time my husband came in for the step ladder was to retreive the helicopter from the roof of our house. Son #1 found this all very exciting.
He exclaimed. "Mama! Dad lost the helicopter on the roof but now he saved it!" This was yelled to me as he ran in from the backyard to the kitchen and then back out again.
Time past by uneventfully. Periodically, I would see the drunken helicopter buzz by the dinette window. Then, Son #1 appeared mournfully at the back door. "He lost it over the fence." My husband informed me that my brother flew the helicopter over the fence to our neighbor's backyard. My husband and son knocked on the neighbor's door but no one was home. Devastation. What could we do?
Back at the house, we brainstormed about how to retrieve our helicopter. Then we remembered the fishing pole. My husband brought out the step ladder for the second time that day and then he brought out the fishing pole. I carried the tackle box. We prepared for our search and rescue mission using the appropriate lure.
The scene outside was of my husband standing on a step ladder casting a fishing pole into the neighbor's yard and surrounded by my brother and eldest son. My brother's expression seemed to say "Hey, this wasn't my fault." (even though it was his fault) Son #1 was hopping up and down with anticipation. After a dozen or so tries, my husband returned to the house triumphantly holding the wayward helicopter. Fantastic.
Who would have thought that the fishing pole I gave as a birthday gift to my husband when we were dating would be used to fish our toys out of neighboring yards?
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