balloon animals

It seems like any local festival you attend is followed by the same street fair. Currently this street fair is down in the little park by the lake with the usual booths selling jewelry, hats, bags, and antiques. The only thing that tells you this is an Italian street fair are the marzipan fruits at the food booths and the amount of Mussolini paraphernalia at the antiques stalls.

One of my favorite things, which are ubiquitous at all festivals, are the inflated animal balloons. I love all the different shapes and bright colors tied to one stick. Somehow they still trigger the excitement and curiosity of childhood. I told John about how I distinctly remember once having not just an inflated rabbit, but also a frog. Maybe the frog was Alex's and he got bored. Either way, I still remember how incredibly happy I was with the two balloons. I asked John if he remembered having a great balloon animal, but he said the only animal he remembers every loving was a stuffed animal called turtle Stephens. Turtle Stephens? I think that's probably the cutest thing I've ever head my husband say.

From our vantage point in the cafe I watch the strollers pass and take note of which animals are chosen by which kids. The youngest little girl chose Pooh, the slightly older girl, a power-puff girl. The boy, of course, selected a power ranger. His family carried motorcycle helmets, and I wondered how a balloon power ranger would make it home.

Finally it was time to do some shopping. I left John at the cafe, went on my errands, and walked home. John followed a bit later, bringing me a blue dolphin. I think it's one of the most romantic things my husband has ever done.

So now Dolphy lives with us, floating around the house, slowly deflating, but totally loved.