What Part of 'Ready' Didn't They Get?

Last weekend I was feeling saucy, so I blew my tax refund check on a model rocket.

Okay, I paid my bills, and after I did that, my tax refund just about covered:

1 'Ready-to-Fly' model rocket ($24.95 at the Stuff-Mart)
2 cheap diamond-shaped kites
1 Diet Mountain Dew

So anyway, I remember shooting model rockets in Cub Scouts, and it was just about the coolest part of the ordeal. Maybe it was what I had to compare it with: the abuse of my peers, a bitchy den-mother, and trying to fool my Dad I could tie more than my shoes for that fucking 'knots' merit badge.

I didn't like building the rocket, so I've blocked it out of my memory, but the day we got to shoot them, that was awesome. So naturally, I expected my kiddos to be thrilled at the prospect.

Mo's a pretty easy sell, since if you offer something she's never heard of, she'll offer a backhanded ascent by echolalia. But Em has learned that pretty much anything Dad wants to do is probably a Bad Idea.

I never knew you could have a kid who scoffed at remote control cars, airplanes and even motorcycles. In other words, all the cool stuff in a toy store.

Yeah, I know, it's the lack of a Y chromosome, but I practice as much denial as I can muster in the gender roles area. I never did like to play baseball, catch bugs or pretend girls were gross, and contrary to the aforementioned fellow Cub Scouts, I'm not queer.

I tried to be bisexual once, but it was only because I thought it would get me somewhere with this hot Drama Chick. But kissing a guy? I'd vomit on his mouth, pretty sure. Can't do it. Not even for a girl with the good looks and despicable morals of Paris Hilton.

But Em came around on the rocket thing. And I had that tax refund burning a hole in my pocket.

I did NOT buy a rocket just because I didn't have to run the decision by my wife.

I did pay $10 extra to get a 'ready-to-fly' model. RTFs are frowned on by serious hobby shop nerds, but I was figuring I'd have to set the whole thing up and fire it in the 1.3 seconds I'd have before Mo bolted. I read the box carefully, or as carefully as you can with two fidgety kids. It said I needed AA batteries that weren't included, so I snagged a pack of Duracells on the way to the checkout.

We went to a park that has a set of softball diamonds and is adjacent to a large, freshly plowed field. It was windier than I expected, but I figured if I loaded the smaller of the engines, I'd have a 50/50 shot at recovering the rocket. I figured I'd have to assemble the launch stand, which was easier than getting the thing out of the bomb-proof plastic package.

And then I see that I need not only AA batters, but a philips head screwdriver, masking tape, sandpaper...

The recovery wadding and parachute were in separate packages, the nose-cone wasn't attached to the shock cord. Ready to fly???

They only thing they did for the extra $10 as far as I can tell is attach the fins. Bastards.

Fortunately, I bought those two cheap kites. Bob and Larry on one, Barbie on the other. They flew for shit, too, but the girls had more fun with them than anything since the boxes their Christmas presents came in.

At home, I tried to finish setting up the rocket, and lost the two screws I took out with the Philips head screwdriver. It's still not 'ready' to fly.