Which one of my little launchers do you think was more intent on his balloon making contact with a certain maternal target? It was actually the easiest part of the weekend, and something we returned to over and over again. It wasn’t so much about hitting me, as it was the invitation to try. It served as the most palpable release of frustration I’ve witnessed in a long time. The rules: boys stay on the steps and Mommy on the sidewalk-about ten feet away. Aim for shoulders or below. Score? Sam two. Marcel one. Mommy restored to her almost heroic potential.
Glad you guys had such fun! Loved this post (what a mischievous-looking Marcel)! Ah, I have such fond memories of water balloons as a kid. Another friend of mine told me this past weekend that she and the kids went out in the pouring rain in their rainboots and raincoats and umbrellas (right after a bath!) and sloshed through the mud and jumped in the puddles and had an absolute BLAST. Cathartic for all, including Mom. What is it about water?