I am afraid of balloons. Absolutely hate them. In my worst times of anxiety, I have actually lied to my kids about balloons.
"Oh, those balloons, they're for orphans... Sorry."
"We can only buy balloons on rainy days, Honey."
"No, I said not on rainy days, Honey."
My mother in law used to mail balloons to the girls, the kind you blow up at home. I used to throw them away before the kids saw them. (My God, what was she thinking? Doesn't she know what these things are capable of? They can take out an eye, choke a baby, pose a strangulation risk, and cause an audible popping sound!)
I know it was a crazy fear, but it was my crazy fear. My looney-momma-protect-the-children-even-if-it-means-saying-no-fear.
Admittedly, as the years have gone by, I have gotten better about balloons. My kids have managed to beg, borrow, steal, or be-gifted enough balloons over time to inhibit my fears and guarantee that their childhood's have not been balloon-free. Plus, I have always allowed mylar balloons. I mean, I wouldn't want to deny them, right? And there was one year where I actually put tiny toys into balloons and had all the party-goers sit on them to POP'EM and retrieve their prize. Wow, that was brave.
Tonight the girls brought home balloons from a birthday party. Nice, Safe, Mylar balloons, which lasted all of a half-hour before they decided to pop them, on purpose, then heal them with duct tape. It was only an hour before they were in the trash and the little one was asking for more baboons. BecauseI am now so-grown up and fearless my kids have me trained so well-- I will probably be at the dollar store tomorrow trying to replace the broken baboons. Do you think they'll laugh at me if I show up in safety goggles and ear plugs?
"Oh, those balloons, they're for orphans... Sorry."
"We can only buy balloons on rainy days, Honey."
"No, I said not on rainy days, Honey."
My mother in law used to mail balloons to the girls, the kind you blow up at home. I used to throw them away before the kids saw them. (My God, what was she thinking? Doesn't she know what these things are capable of? They can take out an eye, choke a baby, pose a strangulation risk, and cause an audible popping sound!)
I know it was a crazy fear, but it was my crazy fear. My looney-momma-protect-the-children-even-if-it-means-saying-no-fear.
Admittedly, as the years have gone by, I have gotten better about balloons. My kids have managed to beg, borrow, steal, or be-gifted enough balloons over time to inhibit my fears and guarantee that their childhood's have not been balloon-free. Plus, I have always allowed mylar balloons. I mean, I wouldn't want to deny them, right? And there was one year where I actually put tiny toys into balloons and had all the party-goers sit on them to POP'EM and retrieve their prize. Wow, that was brave.
Tonight the girls brought home balloons from a birthday party. Nice, Safe, Mylar balloons, which lasted all of a half-hour before they decided to pop them, on purpose, then heal them with duct tape. It was only an hour before they were in the trash and the little one was asking for more baboons. Because
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ReplyDeleteI hate balloons too. I don't fear them... they're just annoying. I hate the noise of the kids hands on them... that awful squeaking sound... almost like sneakers on a gym floor. I had finding the broken bits around the house (inevitably under the couch or bed when I go to vacuum underneath those once every 6 months!) The kids pop them in under ten minutes... and that shizz costs money! Money for LESS than 10 minutes of fun = NOT FUN.
ReplyDelete... then again, maybe I'm just really REALLY cheap.
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ReplyDeleteI like this post. I have a fear of clowns. Yes, I hate clowns...oh and piñatas.
ReplyDeleteI don't mind balloons so much now that the kids are older, but I remember them being babies and having someone hand them a regular inflated rubber balloon, how it made me cringe when then dug their tiny little nails in to them, just waiting for the pop drove me to the brink.
ReplyDeleteBut baboons are pretty frightening too. ;)