Balloons Are a Gift From God

And they should be treated as such. They should be gazed at rapturously, and held on to so very tight when the benevolent Balloon Man hands them to you ... then they should most definitely NOT be attached, in any way, shape or form, to any part of your anatomy, despite the stupid advice your so stupid adults-in-residence give you, because they're STUPID. Then, while you are gazing rapturously at a Commando Barbie that says "Prepare to meet your maker!" and has
pink coordinating bubblegum scented hand grenades, you should LET GO of the balloon. And, when it floats to the ceiling of Wal-Mart, you should begin to scream. Loudly and repeatedly, until the adults in residence retrieve it from the ceiling using a tennis racket and a Power Puff Girl pillow. Then and only then should you allow it to be tied to the shopping cart. After this, you should scamper off in search of ice cream with your father, leaving your mother to wander around the store with a bright pink balloon bobbing near her face. This is so the other shoppers, especially the ones who are smirking behind their hands at her approach, can see she is not so stupid, after all.