I knew, when Meg was born, that the decor of our home would change. However, I pictured it would be all about moving fragile things to higher shelves, tripping over toys, and papering the walls with her artwork.
I had no idea it would involve a style I can only think of as "festive sports bar chic."
These balloon came to darken our doorstep almost two months ago. They were used for a segment on a TV morning show about Superbowl eats a FULL week before the Superbowl. Afterwards, they were just hanging around the newsroom, so I said I would take them home. I thought Meg would enjoy them for a couple days, and then they would follow in the steps of all other balloons that have entered our house and either deflate or be popped by a cat. I was fine with either. What I wasn't fine with them that I start thinking about rearranging the living room so it involves more stadium seating and replacing the rug with AstroTurf.
Sorry, I'm exaggerating. If I am going to have a field I want it to be natural turf.
I have tried many a time to get rid of the balloons. First, I tried asking Meg if she thought it was time they went home. If she could have said "hell, no" I think she would have. Instead she just screamed about how the balloons are her friends. After that I started planning a quiet, sudden "disappearance" for the balloons, but Meg somehow sensed what I was up to, and started saying good-bye to them every time she leaves the room, and asking me if the balloons will be there when she gets back. I thought about pricking each one with a tiny pin and just letting the helium seep out, but all I can picture is Meg inspecting each one -- CSI style -- looking for the murder wounds, thinking about how she will sweat out the perp: her mother.
I'm stuck.
On the upside, the menus at our house have been fabulous lately. We've been having chicken wings, and nachos, and onion rings, and jalapeno poppers, and mozzarella sticks almost every night. Nothing else feels proper. Salad is for balloon-less homes.
I also like to think of the money I will make renting them out for Superbowls in the future. I think their lure as the "never ending" balloons will just inflate the price.
Get it? Inflate the price?
Yeah, well, see what your sense of humor becomes when living with a Macy's parade float in your living room for six weeks...
Monday, March 5, 2012
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12 comments:
I want mozzarella sticks now. Hell, I want to come move in with you all.
It could be worse, they could be Barbie balloons.
I believe there is hope as I can see some minor sag forming in each.
We have a Chuck E. Cheese balloon floating in our house right now. I think we've had it for a month and a half. I keep forgetting to cut it with scissors after She Who Will Not Give Up The Balloon goes to bed.
Thank you, LL Cool Joe for an absolutely, bang-on brilliant idea!!
E has one of those balloons in her room... from June. JUNE Libby. June!!! I can't get it to deflate, she plays with the thing every day. She's named it. It's part of our family now I think. I might even cry when it finally goes.
Mylar balloons CAN be refilled.
Someone must be messing with you.
Now where Barbie balloons might make you a little cringy and angsty we all know that you really hate The Backyardigans. How about one of those balloons floating around the house for months on end?
That's a dilemma alright. When I was Meg's age I hated balloons. They terrified me. Here's the kicker though - it wasn't the big, fat, full of air balloons that scared me although the offer of a surprise pop did deter me a little, no, it was the half deflated, gone a bit wrinkly type balloons that scared me. To this day I will not pick a small, shrivelled wrinkled balloon off the floor without shivering like an idiot. Plus they are cold and clammy like old man balls. Yes I said it. Also, I'm ASSUMING. I can't stress this heavily enough...
If you have kids, you have half-deflated balloons doddering about in the air currents. It's just the way of things.
Holy hell! Those balloons must have been inflated with air from Satan's lungs if they're still like that! I think I might accidentally bump into them with some scissors and/or knife now. Or a mozzarella stick. Can I get some of those, btw?
We have the same issue with those unkill-able Mylar balloons. It's gotten to where I very ungraciously shout "NO!" when someone offers to send some home from a party. Because they will be standing in our living room for the next three months.
Those must be some well-made balloons right there... we can never keep one inflated for more than 2 days in these parts. Primarily, because of the ceiling popcorn. It also helps that we don't go the mylar route, and only introduce latex ones to the kid. He pop's those suckers within 48 hours. A couple of tears, a hug, a hershey's kiss, and we're good to go.
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