Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Worse: Wasps or Water Balloons?

Don't be fooled. It isn't wasps.

Although wasps are awful, horrible, evil beings.  Who doesn't freak out when they see THIS in their face?

Even at a distance they are nasty insects. And today, I let one in the house.

Okay, I think I let one in.  Which is almost worse. And it's all the fault of the dumb water balloons (WBs).  I needed to get the cooler that we keep on our deck into the kitchen so I could put the filled WBs in there. The cooler lives on the side furthest from the sliding door, so I stepped out, checked for spiders, and snatched it.  As I was turning around to go back inside, I noticed a HUGE yellow and black venemous dangly-legged thing veering around right at the top of the open sliding door.  I did what anyone would do and let out a gutteral yell with wide eyes and flailing hands while I dove to get inside and whip around to slam the door.  Unfortunately, I made the classic mistake of losing sight of the menace, and therefore didn't feel any better by being inside because it could have followed me in.  Then I realized that it could have landed on my back, or worse, my hair.  I stood paralyzed in the middle of the living room holding the cooler in one hand and trying to peer behind me while moving as little as possible - I was convinced the intruder was waiting for one wrong move before he would sting me to death.  After about 45 seconds I realized that I was being silly and I tried to laugh it off...didn't work.  I knew the wasp was out to get me.  But I decided that if in fact he was stalking me, he wasn't doing anything active at the moment and I needed to start on the WBs.

Remember how fun it was to grab a plump, colorful water balloon and send it hurtling at the closest person? Me too! It was the BEST! Remember how fun it was to fill them up before the battle? ...me neither.  I only ever recall having a bucket of pre-made WBs at the ready, and I never thought to wonder where they came from or who toiled to fill them up.  Now I know.  And I know why WB fights only happen every once in a while.

BECAUSE THE DEVIL HIMSELF MADE WATER BALLOONS SADISTIC AND CRUEL AND IMPOSSIBLE TO FILL.

Let me introduce you to the cast of players:
The Wizzer

Mr. Blow-Out

Mr. Think-Outside-the-Balloon

Mr. Still-Wets-the-Bed

The Figure Eight
Mr. Right (the verrrrry rare perfect WB)




 As I was dealing with these vagrants of society, I learned a few things about filling WBs:

#1: DON'T. Don't ever volunteer, accept a call, or get sucked in. It is not worth it.

#2: WBs have an eerie way of knowing which way is you.  That is, when they burst, it is never in the convenient spot (such as the SINK, for crying out loud)...it is inevitably, predictably, and uncontrollably on you.
Everything (including me) was SOAKED.

#3: Talking back doesn't help.  In fact, I think they have secret ears and know when you mock them.  Comments such as "that's right you little turd, get in the bucket" and "oh thank you SO much, I really wanted water directly in my eyeball" only result in the tell-tale slpsh that means they have burst. (See #2 to know where the water was directed.)
#4: Be prepared to lose a finger. I am an expert WB tie-er, but after 80 balloons rubbing against the fingies you begin to lose skin.


 #5: Cut your losses. I had more room to fill in my tubs but the WBs kept popping because of the weight of eachother (imagine that, they are cannibals, too!) I was losing more WBs than I could keep filled.  After so much sweat, blood, and tears (okay everything but the blood - I literally worked up a sweat and it looked like I was crying because of the water on my face) it was like a dagger to the heart to hear the slpsh of a suicidal balloon that was already tied and in the cooler. Once, I heard three pops in succession, and I almost passed out.

#6: Be prepared for shrapnel.

The casualties.

Pay particular attention to the orange guy who somehow
managed to fling himself under the chair. Wtb?
#7: Ultimately, refer back to Rule #1.

This whole experience was made all the more unpleasant by the fact that I still expected a killer wasp to attack me at any moment, and all the more interesting because my hands were too wet to take my iPod off shuffle.  I wanted the company of Billy Joel to get me through the ordeal, but after Movin' Out the pod went off to something from my music history class (a dark medieval mass - pretty fitting, actually) and then Larger Than Life by Backstreet Boys.  Don't get me wrong (Max): I am an N*SYNC girl all the way, but I can handle the Boys in small doses.  I was feeling pretty pumped after the first song, so I dried my hands and decided to listen to the whole album.  Bad idea.

Have you ever gone song by song on their Millenium album? It outlines the feelings of every dim-witted, insensitive, and pathetic guy who has every tried to play a girl. It goes like this:
Baby, you're "Larger than Life!" I would do anything for you! But, "I Want it That Way." You can't do that? Fine, "Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely." Whatever. Wait wait, babe you're my everything, "It's Gotta be You!" Really, like right now..."I Need You Tonight." You're busy? Psh, "Don't Want you Back," ever. It's over. Okay okay okay sugar I am so sorry, I didn't mean those things, I was just kidding, I really "Don't Wanna Lose You Now!" Me, desperate? Baby, no no, you are "The One." I mean it this time. What can I do to get "Back to Your Heart?" Look into your "Spanish Eyes?" I'll do anything!!! Babe, "No One Else Comes Close."...Okay, I know I said that my mom was the "Perfect Fan" but I really meant you, hottie. Don't leave me, noooo!

Yiiiikes. Not recommended. 

So, I ate my feelings. As usual.

The end.


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