The balloon is down.
I repeat. The balloon is down.
Only took 44 days.
I swear... this balloon was a special breed of evil.
It possessed a nasty streak for sure. The thing was such a tease.
Not only did it torment my children but it took special pleasure in scaring me as well. That joker somehow wafted up the stairwell and into my bedroom! Nothing like coming into your room and being startled by a levitating orb of evil.
Yes, that's a massive pile o' laundry on my bed. My endless laundry pile... perhaps even more scary than freaky-deaky creeper balloons.
On a positive note... I do get bragging rights!
Yes, my husband is fun and made guessing the "date of balloon demise" into a contest.
And yes, he did call it "Balloon O-Rama."
And yes, he did spell Mommy wrong.
And yes, he is awesome and we love him.