Chopper

Mom bought my brothers and I a remote controlled helicopter for Christmas. Michael loves it. The past two days, all he can say is chopper, chopper when I come home. He can really control it well too, or at least we can get it in the air. The landing rails broke so I hold it in the air in the middle of the room and he holds the controls sitting on the chair. Then he starts up the rotors and I let it go. It looks like a dying dragonfly and buzzes all around the room. I try to avoid it and then try to catch it before it crashes and burns. Michael sits in his chair giggling and trying to fly the chopper. Phuong sits in her chair praying not to take a chopper to the face.