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I wanted to get Holden, for his birthday, 23(!) a big bouquet of balloons. I think it is kinda cute when I see men carry a big thing of balloons. I’m not sure why, but it’s kinda sweet. Plus, he was about to get married in a week or so.

I got the idea when somebody had left their Happy Birthday Mylar balloon behind and I thought, hey, why not. I’ll get a bunch of latex balloons from the Dollar Tree, have them blown up, RECYCLE this still good Mylar balloon, and I have a fun present to give. Throw in a home baked pie or cake and a card and it just turns delightful.

I head up to the Dollar Tree, bought the balloons, and an extra Mylar ($1-might as we’ll make it a BIGGER BOUQUET), only to find out their helium had ran out. BUMMER.

I got home with my packaged balloons to my Charley. Tail slapping, little squeaks, big smile and, whoa, the recycled, orphaned Mylar, yet still fully robust had been reduced to a ribbon and a silvery shadow clump of what looked like cheap tin foil.

Bummer.

Ended up putting this balloon bouquet present off a day. Charley and I headed up to Bartells to try this again. I get a Mylar, and 4 latex. One floated to the ceiling. I happened to take notice how Charley was watching this with great intent. Her eyes went from my hand to the ceiling, back and forth. I just figured she was still frightened of them when she was a tiny pup and she’d popped one playing with it.

I took great care holding them close so they wouldn’t bang together while we walked home in the wind. I didn’t want to frighten Charley. She was still keeping a weary eye.

We get to the front door. I go to open it. This is when she did something she’s not done. Her weary eye de flicked into a mischievous eye, and within seconds hopped up, managing to hit my hand, and setting all but two of the balloons free.

One made it indoors

Wow. Kinda funny I guess. Not then, though. Still had the Mylar and one yellow latex. But in a rash, impulsive decision I set those two free. Saying “Happy Charley?” Poor Charley. I don’t think it phased her. The glimmer in her eye didn’t lie.

By now this was becoming a MISSION that I was not going to fail. This time, (the next day) I DID NOT take Charley. I marched to the store, bought a full bouquet with a new Mylar, walked home triumphantly, only to find all there EXCEPT THE MYLAR. NO JOKE.

One last time. We had to get these balloons to him. Charley, come on! Go back up, buy just the Mylar, and start out trek down the hill. This time she kept teasing me, looking at me then at the balloon purposely, weaving back and forth.

I heard this ever so slight “tap” or “snap”. I look at my hand. A limp yellow party ribbon. There was a pause in the universe as we both looked up. There, caught way, Way up was our Mylar balloon. We both sat down. I was shaking my head.

I don’t know if anybody has seen Treasure of Sierra Madre when the gold gets carried away by a wind storm and Walter Houston busts out laughing, THAT IS WHAT I DID. I couldn’t stop.

Thar she blows
See our Mylar in the tree? Way way up there?

Well, we still have his wedding coming up.

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