I know I said I was going to quit talking about the flu, but I lied. Either the flu has completely drained me of all my energy or I have become a narcoleptic. Not that I really mind, the spontaneous napping creates a nice break in the day. Except for the part where I wake up with someone trying to stick stuff up my nose or in my mouth. And then I have to tell P to quit messing with me and leave me alone.
Yesterday morning I woke up with a little more energy than I’ve had in the previous week, so I decided it was time to go to HEB since we were out of juiceboxes and Donettes, which according to P and Caroline are household staples. Plus, it’s Caroline’s turn to bring snack to school today and those teachers are so picky and act so put out when you bring in a bag of stale pretzels and a few Hershey kisses leftover from Christmas. I mean, these kids are four, it’s not like they’re expecting gourmet items.
By the time we found ourselves on the cereal aisle, I was about ready to lay down and take a nap. I can’t believe a normal trip to the store was so tiring. It’s like I’ve developed the physical stamina of a 97 year old woman. And not the ones that do water aerobics at the Assisted Living Facility.
We finally got home and Caroline was excited because she had scored an orange helium balloon with a sucker attached. Oh, and it had a lollipop on it, too. I let her eat the lollipop even though it was lunchtime because the exhaustion, my word, the exhaustion. I had no will to fight the battle.
After the lollipop was gone, all that was left was the balloon with a long string attached. While I slipped into a coma-like state on the couch, she entertained herself by letting the balloon float up to the ceiling and then jumping up to grab the string and pull it back down. I don’t know how long this went on because, like I said, I was passed out cold.
At some point P came in and she talked him into playing the balloon game with her. They were throwing it back and forth, trying to catch it before it could float back up to the ceiling. And that’s when it happened.
She didn’t catch it in time. It floated back up to the ceiling and then something went awry. I guess the string wasn’t tied around the balloon opening tight enough, but it came undone. We all stared up at the balloon in horror as it slowly deflated and then dropped to the ground like it had been shot.
Two things happened at that moment. P and I began laughing uncontrollably. Caroline began to scream and cry like I had just set one of her Polly Pockets on fire. It was a scream so unprecedented and so filled with horror that it caused P and I to immediately quit laughing and rush to her side to offer her comfort in this time of balloon loss.
At least that would have been our reaction if we were normal, caring people. Instead, her over-the-top reaction caused P and I to double over with laughter until we both had tears streaming down our face.
I have no doubt this will be something she’ll discuss with her therapist some day.
However, once she saw us laughing and realized her balloon wasn’t permanently damaged, she began to laugh too. And then P took the opportunity to show her the annoying sound you can make by blowing up a balloon and then stretching it out while you let out all the air. Hilarity ensued.
And the sound of balloon flatulence was enough to keep me awake for the rest of the afternoon.
It was a precious time.