For years I’ve been looking for a reason to fill a room with balloons, and we finally did it to celebrate Hank’s first day of summer. His best friend Clark came over, and Hank knew something was up immediately when we didn’t let them just run into his room.
We said there was a surprise in there, and I asked if I could take a photo. Clark reluctantly complied with my request for a fist bump.
They opened the door.
And responded with screamies, and happies, and laughter.
It was so rewarding. Parenting! I momentarily forgot the throbbing in my raw balloon-tying fingers.
The boys spent the next couple of hours thwapping each other with balloons and then we went for ice cream.
Afterward there were balloons everywhere. Brad loved it.
I kid. Brad kept trying to pop balloons covertly so he would stop stubbing his toes on things. The nerve. You can’t sweep away celebration Brad, you can’t tidy joy.
But eventually I admitted that balloons spontaneously combusting in the night wasn’t the best situation with a newborn. So Hank laid down on his bed and cut the ends off hundreds balloons so he could watch them fly around the room.
Summer is such a damn delight.
There’s a video over on Go Mighty if you’d like to see their reaction. It’s nice to check something off my Life List again.
Over drinks the other night, some friends were reminiscing about these Japanese candy powders that you mix to form different textures. I’d never heard of them, but apparently one powder makes sushi rice, another the seaweed, etcetera, so you can roll sushi candies.
Have you tried these? I ordered some to play with.
This video is pretty touching. Do any of you relate to this kid too? I remember finding meat so upsetting in childhood that I would have trouble finishing meals. His mom’s response feels so evolved compared to the response I got, which was more like, “Eat it.”
Check out these balloon sculptures by Masayoshi Matsumoto. Until moments ago, I was feeling so advanced for upgrading my skills from “snake” to “wiener dog.”
I bought this ordinary cabinet last week, because it is secretly …
a Tardis desk. If Superman lived his daily life as a superhero, this would be the desk where he lived out his true identity as Clark Kent. (And other nerdy references, etcetera, etcetera, Star Wars analogy).
Anyway, secret writing! No one can know.