Monday, February 7, 2011

Stella's Balloons



One of your great-grandmothers turned 86 the other day.
Stella, your father's grandmother.

She was given 86 balloons.


Well, it seems they found their way over to our house.
And into your room.
(This conveniently happened post-party, while I was in town working.)




They take up a wealth of space!
They cover your toys.
You want to sleep with them.
Though deflated now, you find them to be the best things since
chocolate milk and Wilb-Wilbs.



Your room smells like rubber.
Everything squeaks and moans in that balloonish, latex-laden sort of way.
They make you laugh though, so I figure,
how bad can 86 balloons really be?

Then I realize how heartbroken you'll be when they pop and fizzle.
And you'll want more.

Oh . . . man.

3 comments:

  1. Jess-You may end up buying a tank of helium....i think balloons are lovely...I'm suprised the pets aren't going into destroy balloons mode! Opps...Happy Birthday Stella...she's my moms age...no kidding!

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  2. oh look at that face!


    love and light

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