Yup. Balloons. Nylon strips of Hell. Effing balloons.
Because you know what balloons mean in my household? Take your pick.
1. Fighting. If one boy has a balloon (like from a birthday party), then the other boy wants it. If they both have balloons, they fight about whose is bigger, whose is longer, whose is stronger (ignore the obvious male joke here, please).
2. Crying. Inevitably. Either because the helium balloon flew away or the non-helium one popped or it went up to the skylight or it isn’t red. Whatever. Let’s cry about it.
3. Death. I swear, my kids will be 37 and 40 and I’ll still be convinced they’re going to choke on a balloon. Little Brother recently decided it was a great idea to try to pop balloons with his teeth. Awesome.
Both boys went to a birthday party yesterday, met a real jedi knight and received, to their delight, giant balloon light sabers. They were psyched, to say the least.
Four total balloon pieces (including the attached saber handles). In the shape of swords.
Sweet.
So, because Mom is a total Scrooge and finally put the kibosh on bashing each other (and the furniture) over and over and over (and over) again, they decided the next fun task was going to be to spend the rest of the morning popping the balloons together.
Choking hazards! Yipppeee!
Oh, and then they moved on a giant punch ball balloon they found in the playroom.
Finally. Victory is ours.
Is it cocktail time yet?
My mom not only hates balloons…She is scared of them.
Seriously. She is stressed any time she sees one in her vicinity, just waiting for the inevitable *pop* that will surely follow…
OH, and my sister is scared of rubberbands. Won’t even allow them in her house.
I don’t know. Maybe my family has issues.
My irrational fear? Staples. Can’t touch them to pull ’em out of the box. Like nails on a chalkboard.
We’re all a little nutty, no?
Ha! I always secretly pop every balloon we ever get, then blame it on our declawed cat.
Oh yeah. Balloons suck. Same issues here. The worst is when they offer them to your kid at the grocery store, or some store FAR away from home, and then you get to drive home TRYING not to crash b/c the damn thing is bopping all around the car blocking your vision out the windshield.
I’m with you on that one. My mom always hated balloons. When it was time to clean my room, she’d come in & pop any balloons cause they were “dusty” according to her. Now I have very sensitive ears. Any loud popping makes them hurt. My sister never lets her 2 young daughters have any.