My 2 Cents...

...on the "Balloon Boy."

I don't have too much time right now. Getting ready to head out to Carrollton for movie night with some people from church--"Cheesy" Movie Night to be exact. After the initial contest ended in a tie between Kyle and I, we participated in an intense game of rock, paper, scissors to see who got to pick the movie. My prowess at a game that is based solely on chance won out. So we're watching "That Thing You Do!" Doesn't get much cheesier than that.

Anyways, here I was promising you my take on the balloon boy and I went off and tangentized.

In the words of my mother:

"I would hug his neck, then beat his a**"

While watching the hullaballoo on CNN, I was concerned for the boy. I prayed that he'd be okay, I held my breath as the balloon finally hit the ground.

Oh,wait. He's not in there. I wasted my whole afternoon watching with baited breath and...nothing. Wtf. Then, my concern shifted to hoping that if he had fallen out, it was before it had gotten too high.

Let's face it, regardless- he would not have been able to survive that altitude and lack of oxygen and overexposure to helium. So, now we all hoped that he was okay and maybe only suffered a broken leg or something.

An hour passes.

Oh, wait. The little bugger was hiding in his garage THE WHOLE TIME. Seems little Falcon (yes, his name's Falcon. That's almost worst than Apple. And that's saying something, Gwyneth.) untethered Daddy's weather balloon and felt bad and went to hide in a box in the little attic in his garage to avoid getting in trouble.

Now, I can relate to this child. One of my earliest memories (those of you that know me, know that I retain the ODDEST range of information. I don't know why I remember the things that I do, or how I do it. But it makes me a good history major.) I tangentized again.

One of my earliest memories is this:
In the house I grew up in, we used to have to walk through the kitchen and then through the dining room to get to the living room. My mom would therefore leave the day's mail or anything else of relevance on the fancy dining room table for my dad to pick up as he breezed through the door after a long day of work. She would also leave his medication there so he wouldn't forget to take it.

Well, one day, 5 year old Tiffany got curious about one of the pills. It was two different colors and looked like a mike 'n ike. So, Curious Me decides to poke and prod and see if I can separate the two colors...I mean, what on earth could be in this pill? well...I succeeded and broke the little pill in half and powder spewed on the dining room table. Oops. Me, being brilliant, used my tiny little fingers to push the powder into a little line (I just realized that it could have resembled a line of coke. Um. Moving on.) and then placed the two empty plastic-y halves on top of the powder.

And RAN. Oooh, i hid in my room, confessed my sin to my stuffed Rajah and my fish Posey and good gracious I was sick over it for the next 2 hours. I could feel the sweat pouring down my face as my dad walked through the kitchen. I crept halfway down the stairs, still hidden by the wall, and held my breath. Here is what happened:

Mom: Here's the mai-Oh! Your pill exploded!
Dad: Huh. That's funny. I wonder how that happened?
Mom: Tiffany? Sweetie? Do you touch Daddy's medicine?
*thump thump thump down the stairs*

Me: I'M SORRY!!!!!! I DID IT AND I'M SORRY!!!! PLEASE DON'T TAKE AWAY MY DINNER!!!!
*I then collapsed onto the floor in (if I do say so myself) a perfect imitation of Belle in the dungeon after he drags her father off and she realizes she didn't get to say goodbye to her dad and then cries as the Beast decides to show her to her room*

they laughed at me. But, apparently this was traumatic enough to be etched into my memory.

In other words, oooooh I hope that kid gets an actual beating. Cuz at least I didn't get CNN to track my indiscretions. Yikes.

Also, I can't wait to see which sousaphone shows up at the trumpet party dressed as a big silver weather balloon. Kellyn, please keep your eyes open and report to me.

Off to movie night.