Dewey: Dad, look how high my kite is!
Hal: Oh, that's great, son. That's terrific.
Dewey: You wanna try?
Hal: Uh, no.
Dewey: Why not?
Hal: I don't like kites.
Dewey: What do you mean you don't like kites?
Hal: I don't like kites and they don't like me. Dewey, we just don't get along.
Dewey: You'd like it if you tried it. Come on, just hold the string.
[Hal sighs heavily as he gets up, walks over to Dewey and takes the kite string. The moment he does, the kite crashes to the ground.]