On Saturday we went to the Keiki Fest in Mililani and were chased away by intense heat. In an ironic reversal of roles, Lynnette and I were the most irritable. It was just too hot. Madison was happy to partake in the activities and Cole and Avery got balloons. These balloons kept them busy all day. They also kept me busy all day because I’d have to get them down from the ceiling whenever Cole or Avery would let them go.
Later that night we ended up at Ala Moana for a Genius Bar appointment. We had dinner at Shirokiya. When I got back from getting my food, two more balloons were tied to the stroller. Eventually, Avery fell asleep clutching her ballon. Cole went down hours later with his the string of his balloon wrapped around his right pinky finger. By Sunday morning all four balloons had either been deflated (by time) or popped (by Avery’s teeth.
Then yesterday Madison found a bag of small balloons and began inflating them. First, she made three at a time, one each for her and the twins. Today, she just went ahead and inflated a bunch of them and dropped them onto the twins in Avery’s crib. “Balloon Pit!” she cried. I heard the twins squeal. I went into the room to see what all the commotion was about. I was surprised. I mean, I don’t know what I was expecting, but that’s on me, I guess.
It’s a little strange, but it’s one of those things that always amaze me, like: not visiting a place in years, then ending up there 3 times in the span of 2 weeks; wondering about an old friend and bumping into them randomly; waking up with a song in your head then hearing it come over the speakers in the grocery story. Happy coincidences, you know? There can’t possibly be more balloon-related nonsense this week, right?