I'm not even going to mention the fact that I have been absent for a shameful amount of time. And yes I realise that mentioning that I'm not going to mention something is the exact same thing as mentioning something but that's not important.
But hey, I've seen the error of my ways and here I am!
On to todays post.
I have become alarmed and saddened by the increasing number of people that I meet that haven't 'done' helium.
It is every child's rite of passage and I have very vivid memories of it.
Little Rella was forced to be at a party she didn't want to go to, surrounded by a bunch of 'cousins'; 'aunts' or 'uncles' of no real relation. Seated on one of the chairs that lined the wall she took in her surroundings and like a hawk zeroing in on it's prey she spotted it. There. Floating, peacefully. Blissfully unaware of the capture and utter destruction that awaited it; a helium balloon.
Now if you cannot relate to this I don't know what to tell you, or how to sympathise with the childhood that was stolen from you... But perhaps it's not too late. For you.
Little Rella was reluctant to announce her interest in the balloon. See competition was everywhere and a helium balloon with the amount of height that this one had was a gem, a prized commodity, so she waited. Monitored. Sure she moved around, worked the room as any ten year old would do but no matter where she was or who she was talking to she knew where the balloon was.
At this point you should be realising how serious this is and rushing out to get a helium balloon to reclaim your obviously unfulfilled infant years (hehe) or at least on the phone to your parents demanding to know why it went down like that "Mum, was I allergic? Is that what it was??"
It was time to leave. To Little Rella this meant the cards that had been held so close to her chest all evening were about to get played. Sure she was tired but she couldn't afford to let her guard down. Suddenly her spine stiffened and the hairs at the back of her neck stood up. Somebody had noticed it. The tell tale signs were written all over his face, the widening eyes and beaming smile. Amateur. She swooped in, grabbed the balloon string and before he knew it the balloon had been tied around Little Rella's wrist declaring ownership. His smile vanished. His eyes traced the balloon string from the balloon all the way down to Little Rella's wrist and then made their way to her face, watering and weepy. She tried not to be too smug about her victory, he was young afterall, he didn't know the rules of ballooning. She gave him a small smile, to sympathise or gloat she didnt know, turned, and left the party; head held high with the balloon dancing behind her.
The ride home was a long one. When she finally arrived she ran up to her room, shed her jacket and shoes and untied the balloon string. It all came down to this. The constant vigilance and competition was all for this. With a pair of scissors she squeezed the neck of the balloon tight and cut off the end. She placed the neck to her mouth, inhaled deeply and with an augmented voice declared: "This my dears, this sounds like victory hehehehehe"
LOL! I hope this put a smile on your face.
With all the love in the world,