Once upon a time, in a cozy little house on Sunny Street, there lived a six-year-old boy named Summer. He had bright eyes, a smile that could light up a room, and he loved to play all sorts of games.

One day, while Summer was playing with his toy cars, his father, a tall man with a gentle laugh, came up with a fun idea. 'Summer, how about we play a game of flying chess tonight?' he said with a wink.

Summer looked up from his cars and giggled. 'Are you and Mommy teaming up? Is this like getting back for big brother since I beat him twice already?' he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

That evening, after dinner, Summer and his father sat down at the game table. The flying chess board was set, and the colorful pieces waited for their adventure. Summer was determined to win once more.

They both played with excitement, moving their pieces across the board, hopping over each other, and trying to find the best way to reach the end. Summer's father would sometimes let Summer win, but Summer was getting better and better.

Near the end of the game, it was clear that it could be anyone's win. Summer's piece was one roll away from victory, but so was his Dad's. They looked at each other and laughed, shaking their dice for the final turn.

Summer rolled the dice, the little cubes tumbled and clacked on the table, and... it was the exact number he needed! Summer jumped up, cheered, and his Dad chuckled, 'You're the flying chess champion!' They ended the night with a big bear hug.