About Another Balloon

Well, two balloons, actually.

Yesterday, as you know, was Valentine’s Day. We don’t generally do much for Valentine’s Day here. Never have done. But Stinkerbelle is home sick with a cold this week, and had to miss her Valentine’s Day party at school. So I thought we could do something special to mark the day since she wasn’t at school celebrating with her little pals.

So we decided yesterday to make cupcakes. We weren’t going out to a store for mixes or anything, so it had to be from scratch. That’s fine for us, because that gives That Girl the chance to use The Mixer.

She loves The Mixer. It’s a KitchenAid stand mixer, and between the pouring in of ingredients and the turning on of the beater, she’s positively giddy about baking. So that’s good for an hour or so of fun, plus the time it takes to bake the cupcakes and frost them.

So that was good. We made pink-frosted vanilla cupcakes as a surprise for Daddy. And Stinkerbelle made him a homemade valentine covered in stickers.

What we didn’t realize, however, was that Daddy had plans of his own for HIS valentines. These were revealed to us when, half an hour after his anticipated arrival time, the doorbell rang. And there stood BDH, with flowers for me.

And two GIANT balloons for Stinkerbelle.

When I say “giant”, I mean these balloons are as big as she is. And they play MUSIC.

Specifically, the same line from a 70s pop song. OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN. All that is required to get them to play is a tap on the outside of the balloon. Or, since they are full of helium, bumping up against the ceiling.

Which, you have probably already surmised, happens VERY FREQUENTLY when there’s a three year old tugging on the ribbons attached to the bottom.

VERY FREQUENTLY INDEED.

This means that the same line from the same pop song plays every time — sometimes in a weird out-of-sync stereo when both balloons are being yanged around by That Girl. And she commences a little jig of joy along with the music every single time.

Fingers pointed in a little disco dance vibe, arms waving, bum wiggling, little feet jigging up and down… Stinkerbelle loves a good dance party. Even one that is balloon-generated.

So, you know, it’s hard to get annoyed when that happens. No matter how often I hear the snippet of song (and I won’t tell you what it is, so that I don’t earworm you — I LOVE YOU THAT MUCH, MAN) whenever I see that little dance of happiness, or see her hands clapping together with glee at making the music start again, it’s totally worth it.

(Although in the interest of full disclosure, the balloons say they’re good for 50 plays of the song. I’m counting.)