The Execution of a Water Balloon (or two or three)

Once again, I have failed to update my blog in so long! *insert huge and lengthy apologies here* I have a bit of time on my hands, so here's a post for you guys! 


A few weeks ago, my sister was trying to blow up balloons and asked me to help. I used to be able to blow a balloon last year, but for some reason, I just couldn't do it! I didn't puff my cheeks and I tried to blow into it like I would play a licorice stick because to play a licorice stick, you cannot puff your cheeks. It didn't work, despite all the air we blew and all the times we stretched them. Stupid balloons just don't cooperate. I'd like to think that we got the "mean kind," but of course, that's an immature. Balloons can't be mean! The ones we got, though, defied that rule, obviously. Or it could possibly be because I didn't blow them quite right...oh, balderdash! Nonsense, I say!

So my sister decided that we should make water balloons. I agreed because making a water balloon was easy enough...or so I thought. 

My sister first attempted to fill the balloon up with water while I watched. Water splashed out of the balloon more often than stayed in, so I came and helped my sister with the formation of the water balloon.

(Yes, I know the perspective is REALLY off, but...look at the toilet! It looks awesome, doesn't it?)

(The blue stuff on the floor are bathroom mats.)

(BTW, I've exaggerated the height difference between me and my sister. She's only an inch shorter than me...)

The plan was brilliant, the execution poor. Right after I turned on the faucet, the force of the water pushed the balloon off the faucet and into the sink, letting no water inside the balloon but plenty of water over it. 

But we did not let this setback stop us in our valiant quest for water balloons. I cleverly noticed that if I held the balloon onto the faucet (if that makes sense), then the balloon probably would not fall off. Once again, the plan was brilliant, but its execution was poor. Water spattered out of the balloon into the air and onto our faces.

So we tried yet again, this time with me holding the water balloon tightly onto the faucet with both hands and my sister turning the faucet on. No water splattered out, and my sister tied the balloon closed.  

We had created a water balloon! We smiled proudly at our creation.

[Look, ma! Hand(s)! Real, actual hand(s)!]

With a heavy heart, I brought the scissors from the kitchen. My sister sliced the balloon open right under the knot, but didn't manage to slice it all the way through, so, instead of flattening quickly, the balloon died slowly. And the death was beautiful.

 My sister and I were amazed at the fountain that we had "created" by destroying our balloon. We found this sufficiently entertaining, so we created another water balloon to destroy with the scissors. I wonder if rats raised to be dissected feel like they're just being born to be destroyed by those who raised them and then picked apart at the hands of staring and giggling fourteen-year-olds...not that I'd ever want dissecting to be banned or anything. No! Of course not. 

Am I a horrible person for actually liking to dissect rats? 

Anyway, we took an orange balloon this time, filled it up with water, and cut it, but we cut it at a different place than we did the other balloon, so the water shot straight up rather than in a graceful arc. 

Executing these balloons had actually been super entertaining. Were we monsters for enjoying these deaths of innocents so much? Maybe, but that mattered not. What mattered was that it was FUN!

Before you all start freaking out on me, let me assure you that I have never even been in the possession of scissors while in the same room as a balloon since that day. Never!

But you never know. When I get the chance, I just may go and execute empty water balloons of their water...creatively!