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The Yellow Balloon

My eldest son went on a trip at nursery. The kids were invited to the birthday party of a lady at a local care home. The resident was turning 102 and so they had cake and balloons to celebrate. At the end of the party, the balloons were given to the kids as they went back to nursery.

When I arrived to collect the boys, I was told about the party and the balloons. I thought I had just about managed to escape from the nursery with the kids but without a balloon. Unfortunately one of the members of staff mentioned the balloons to another kid and my son heard them. There was no chance of leaving without it after that.

Unfortunately the younger kid also wanted to play with the balloon. After about 30 seconds of fighting in the bike trailer I took it off them and stored it in the back of the trailer. This meant that I got to cycle home in relative quite.

At home the balloon was released. The kids loved playing with it. To their credit they did actually play nicely together. Lots of laughs and giggles between them. As I was in the process of putting the bikes away, the wind caught it. The balloon soared up above the house at which point the main wind dragged it off into the distance.

This, as I am sure you understand, was the end of the world. The older boy realised quickly what had happened. He panicked. Tears flooded into his eyes. He started screaming about the balloon. The younger boy joined in.

Despite having a good look through the scrub and the trees, the balloon was clearly gone. The older boy, through streams of tears, suggested that I needed an aeroplane to get it back.

The tears continued through the entirety of dinner and stopped once they were distracted in the bath. He took the loss of a balloon he had only had for a few hours really badly. I suppose that it is a small lesson in life. At the same time, I really do feel sorry for him.

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