The Balloon
The booglet, her mother, me, Chester and Belly took "the walk" today. The sun freshly set and the wind coming in over the bay. Cloudy and still wet from a drenching rain that was apparently snow across the country for people at higher latitudes. Anyway, the booglet is carrying her balloon we got Sunday at supper. She's gnawing on it.

"Sweetheart, don't do that or it will pop."

We keep walking. A few seconds later--POP! Wait for it...wait for it...okay, now, cue the crying.

So I go back to her, pick her up, take the remains of the balloon in my hand. She says the funniest thing--kids are like that and you really have to refrain from laughing at these zingers they unload.

She sniffles, "I need a band-aid!"

Oh sweetheart. Your timing is beautiful--your delivery perfect. Daddy's so proud.

Later, on the porch after she's gone to bed, my wife slips out. She says, "Did you smell her face?"

"No, why?"

"She smelled like a balloon."

Oh man, we both cracked up. Sorry, darling, this is our entertaiment. You'll get to laugh at us in the nursing home one day...