On October 29, a lovely, sunny Saturday, Stonebow and I took our littlest son to a HarvestFest in the neighborhood where my mother lives. A day of pumpkin painting, craft browsing, and candy eating ensued. Fun was had by all. To cap off the day, we purchased a latex balloon for our son with the expectation that, like all latex balloons, it would wither in a day’s time. In the morning we would wake up and find it on the floor, shriveled and impotent. That’s okay, though, because balloons are fun for approximately a day, and then you wonder, why exactly did we buy that? The friendly (maybe too friendly) balloon-blowing-up person allowed us to select a blue balloon, then turned to fill it with helium. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her squeeze some sort of liquid into the balloon.
Sunday dawned. The balloon greeted us, merrily floating in the living room. Huh? Must be some high quality latex or something. A week passed. The balloon still floated. Now,* two* weeks have passed and that damned balloon is still floating in my living room! It hasn’t even diminished significantly in size!
What the ever living heck did she put in the balloon!? Hypotheses around here are along the lines of liquid satan à la Prince of Darkness.
Seriously, how long can we expect this to go on? The minute I see any liquid on my ceiling, I’m burning the house down.
