I almost forgot that I had a blog.
Sam and I shopped for his Spiderman birthday party supplies today, and I bought him a big, red helium balloon at his request. Last night we read the French book, The Red Balloon, that I remember from my childhood. It's really some of the best photography I've ever seen, as the red balloon follows young Pascal around Paris. Sam loved the book (apple not falling far), so it made sense for him to say, "Please, Mommy, a red balloon."
Sam's red balloon disappeared into the afternoon sky after he went in the backyard (by himself) to water the flowers midday. He came inside bawling, the words so meek that he could hardly get them out. I said, "Honey, what is it...what is it?" "My...my...BALL...oooooon." The sadness was unbearable.
Later, after he'd calmed down, he explained how the balloon was up in the sky with the baseballs that he's hit over the fence, and that it's following people around town. (If you're unfamiliar with A. LaMorisse's The Red Balloon, might I suggest it.)
This, my (nearly) three-year-old. As Debbie put it: He's going to do very well in school.
I returned to the store later and bought him another red balloon...and a blue one, too, just because I love him so much.
