My son (age 7) asked me to make him a paper airplane, which I did.
He launched it into the rare air of our living room, watching as its maiden flight failed miserably.
Dad, it fell like a dead moth.
Couldn't have said it better myself. The kid is a poet at age 7.
How proud is Dad?
Very.
As to the lack of paper airplane making skills? Meh. I can live with that.
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