Balloons mean so much. 

They say to us: “The party is over here by us, the balloons” 

“This otherwise normal day is better because of balloons” 

“It is now time to have fun but not normal fun, balloon fun.” 

They can also say “Buy me” on a car lot. There was a car dealer in California that had three balloons on each of his car’s antennas. That guy is spending a fortune on balloons. 

Whatever the reason I cannot help but photograph them. They make me chuckle everytime. 

Their temporary, fragile bodies usually only last a couple of hours. At Jacks birthday party I was in charge of cleaning up the balloons. I got a steak knife and stabbed them one by one. One of them didn’t burst, it whined and screamed in pain as its life-giving air rushed out of its gash. I almost felt sad for it. Lily stood by me and sucked her thumb. She winced at each “POP”. 

Sadly, I have posted about balloons before. You can find it here.