Balloons
On a birthday.
O. turned one. You were right about it being hard to get balloons in the car, C texted and I could see him wrangling the bunch—trying to shove them all in the door and close it without any escaping—and laughed.
The person at the register didn’t know how to ring them up, so we got all of them for the price of one. I kept thinking the balloons were a person at the door and looking up to say hi. O. loved them. He kept pointing, wanting to touch them again. It’s your birthday, buddy! we said to him. Can you believe it?
She really blew them up, C. said, squeezing one gently between his palms. It was true—they looked like, big, soft watermelons. Really ovular. None of them popped, but one got away. (I felt bad—the sea turtles!) There it goes, we said, O. pointing as it went out of sight.
This one’s going out a day early, since tomorrow is the Fourth of July (derogatory). Also: last week’s Enthusiasm got shelved at the last minute due to me catching my son’s germs once again, but I missed you all. Thank goodness for Gatorade.
Wishing everyone a good long weekend celebrating whatever it is you choose, probably not America though. <3