Fly Time

The feeling of flight is a wonderful thing. It makes me feel free, weightless, and all that other stuff, you know. I still can't believe that Dad let me fly that day. Mom, of course, was against it, but Dad has his ways.
We went downstairs into his little "lair" and stood in front of his suits. He looked down at me with a smug expression.
"You ready?"
"As I'll ever be." I answered, my heart racing.
Dad nodded and pushed a button on the wall. I expected the glass in front of his suits to rise, but instead, part of the wall opened up.
"Whoa..."
It was almost identical to Dad's, only it was smaller, had more of a pink tint, and was less detailed with other gadgets. My fingers grazed the smooth metal as I gazed upon it. Dad stood behind me, his arms crossed with a warm smile.
"It's mine?" I whispered.
"I think it's too small for me." He teased.
"Can I put it on?" I asked, turning sharply.
Dad raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, as if saying, "Are you serious?"
"Dur." I muttered.
Excitedly, I stepped onto the platform which the suit was standing on. Suddenly, the wall closed. I gasped as the suit seemed to jump at me. There were sounds of metal clanking and clacking, and then I was in. The wall slid open, and I stepped out. I raised my hand and turned it this way and that, amazed that I was in my own Iron Man suit, which fit perfectly.
"Awesome, isn't it?" Dad said, who was in his own suit now.
I nodded and looked down at my feet, on the point of completely freaking out at the awesomeness. Dad grinned, and then his mask snapped shut. I did the same with my own mask. I paused as the little screens appeared on in the inside of my mask. This was awesome, indeed. He then motioned for me to follow him. Dad put his palms down, and he shot into the air, through the tunnel leading up to the skies.
Nervous now, I slowly clonked my way under the hole. I placed my feet firmly on the ground, sighed, and made myself shoot into the tunnel. I couldn't help but scream. I was blasting through the tunnel and burst abruptly into the air. I saw my dad hovering a bit away from the entrance. I found that I couldn't stop. Dad appeared next to me and grabbed my arm, forcing me to a halt.
"I see you've got the control down." He said sarcastically.
"You're the one who crashed into your cars and the house when you first flew." I returned.
"Fair enough." He replied with a shrug. "Suppose that I should teach you and what not."
We spend the whole night in trying to get my control under, well, control. I eventually got it that next morning, and I flew over the city with Dad. My drowsiness soon vanished and was replaced by the rush of flight.
I was so in control that I was able to do flips and twirls while Dad watching, laughing to himself, I'm guessing. Mom wasn't too happy to hear that I was gone all night, but she did like that I enjoyed myself. I try everyday now to go out and practice. My hope is that I will fight with my dad, side-by-side.
Although, I don't think either of my parents would want that, but we'll just have to wait and see.