Friday was terrible weather around here. Raw.

Wet.

Windy.

Good for nothing.

Except, maybe, flying a kite.

An activity which I had never done before.

The fifth grade classroom recently came into possession of a kite.

It has sat through the winter, untouched, in a corner of the classroom. On Friday, with winter-esque gusts of wind blowing on the field, the students decided it was time to bring it outside.

Their style of flying a kite was to take a running start and launch it into the air, then run around with it trying to keep it aloft.

It looked like a lot of fun.

And that has been the extent of my kite experience: Looking. Many a summer's day in Montauk at the beach there would be one or two kites flying over the sand or the water, tied to someone's beach chair or anchored by a stationary beachgoer. I always noticed them, but didn't give kite-flying much thought.

Friday that changed. I decided to get in the game.

Of course, the kids were all excited by the idea that I wanted to fly it. I took the string (we didn't have one of those string holders), gave it a little running start, and held it while the winds did their work.

It was a pretty cool experience.

But the string was ripping up my hands and the kids wanted the kite to be run across the field - and I wasn't feeling that active.

So I handed it back over, ending my first kite-flying experience on a high note. (Which is to say it didn't end up in a tree.)

I am intrigued by the possibility of purchasing a kite for some summer fun with my girls.

But I will make sure it has the string holder.

And without 30 fifth graders standing around, I might be a little more inclined to run around with the kite.