Balloons and I have a love/hate relationship.
At first, balloons are so colorful and perky. They float on the top of their ribbons like they don’t have a care in the world. I admit to succumbing to their charms; I have procured many a balloon for Lily and Emmy.
When Lily was about 2 and a half, she got a red balloon at the mall. It was summertime, and when we went to the parking lot, the wind blew the balloon against the hot metal of the car. POP! That was the end of that balloon. Lily cried and cried. My heart broke for her, so I pulled into a Party City and replaced the free balloon with a more expensive, Dora replacement balloon.
The day after you bring balloons home? They are limp, lying on the ground with a hangover. They are still the most wonderful toy EVER, though, according to a certain toddler.
I hate these sad balloons hanging around the house. I usually try to sneak the balloons off quietly. First, I snip off the ribbons. Lily decorated her dresser once with a discarded pink balloon ribbon, Fancy Nancy style. Then, when the girls are sleeping, I let the air out of the balloons and they “disappear.”
The other day, while Emmy was napping, I came across a balloon lying on the floor and put it out of its misery. Unfortunately, I forgot that it was Lily’s balloon, and she saw me. She started crying and crying. She remembered that time I had taken her to buy a replacement and demanded that we go buy another balloon. I said no. She cried even harder about her balloon which I had purposely popped.
I remembered that we had a package of water balloons, left over from summer. I brought out a yellow one and tried to blow it up for Lily. I couldn’t budge it just by blowing. So I filled it in the sink, let the water out, and then the balloon was much easier to blow up. I tied a ribbon around the knot, and even though this balloon didn’t fly up into the air, it brought Lily’s smile back.
I’m such a sucker for balloons.