(Based on a column by Erma Bombeck)

To raise a child,
And do it right,
Is like the way
To fly a kite.

You run with it
Then toss it high
To help it leave
The ground and fly.

It dips and bobs
Then tries to sail,
It falls, you add
A longer tail.

As it ascends
It needs more string
You let it out
While worrying.

At last it soars,
And finally
It snaps the line
And now is free.

It drifts away
Beyond a cloud,
You watch it go,
Both sad and proud.

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