In the event of a balloon emergency, I ordered extra balloons. Getting the balloons was comical to say the least.
The child already was not feeling well, and he wasn't crazy about being surrounded by balloons. In my mind, I went through a checklist:
66 helium filled balloons? Check.
Bag with a banana, a Nutrigrain bar, fruit leather, crackers, and lots of water? Check.
Bag filled with the Former Baby's favorite toys? Check.
Dress on? Check.
Former Baby WITH SNOT RUNNING OUT OF HIS NOSE? Check.
Current temp: 97.6 degrees
Current heat index: 102 degrees
So, after shoving my beloved nephew into a vehicle filled to the brim with helium and latex, we made it home. The poor sick guy fell asleep in the car (which he never does) amongst a cloud of pearlized white balloons and he looked like a little angel. The Former Baby was put to bed and then I went to work developing a plan that would allow 66 balloons to fit in the car and still allow my poor nephew a chance to breathe.
During his miracle nap, the child woke up pleasantly healthy and perky - which was good because he'd been obnoxious and we had a time sitting in the car with 66 balloons until the family was ready for them. I got a text that it was go time, I shoved the kid in the car, I carefully placed 66 balloons tied to coffee mugs (it was ingenious, my stacking system!) and off we went to the cemetery - where at least 5 UPS pilots stole the balloons they were supposed to release! Come on, idiots. Have you ever been to a funeral where they give out balloons as a parting gift? I don't think so. The kids had their own color balloon, the wife had a red love balloon, and everyone else had white. It was actually beautiful.
Overall, Operation Balloonation was a success. And to reward my nephew who was tremendously good and patient today after such a weird day, I texted his mom and asked if she could pick him up late so I could take him to the big fancy indoor pool at my gym. She said yes, I sped home, grabbed our things and left. We went to the gym, he was SUUUUUPER excited, I changed him into his little swim diaper and trunks, we walked to the pool's edge and then...the doomed words came.
"SOMEONE HAS POOPED IN THE POOL. IT WON'T BE OPEN FOR ANOTHER 45 MINUTES."
Now, we were a mere inches from entering the water. My nephew was singing songs, he was so overjoyed to swim, and was ready to dive in when MEAN AUNT NON-MOMMY ripped him away from the pool. He didn't understand. He hesitantly walked out the door with me and then when he realized that we were actually leaving without so much as a toe in the water, he freaked. We're talking glass shattering, explosive, "I'm at the end of my rope!" kind of losing it. I picked him up off the floor, put him on my hip promising that we could go to the pool in my neighborhood, when suddenly, I felt water running down my leg. We hadn't been in the pool. I wasn't peeing, or going into labor or anything.
I had my nephew's urine streaming down me.
Seems the swim diaper didn't work. This is the second time this has happened. I made sure his little peener was pointing in the right direction. He hadn't had it on 3 minutes, so it couldn't have been overfull. I don't know if the force of his screaming made the urine shoot out even more or what. So now I have a screaming, crying, urine covered child to take to the car. He was NOT happy.
It was 4:35. The neighborhood pool closes at 5:00. I sped to the pool.
4:40 and we're at the neighborhood pool. I didn't even have sunblock for the kid, but he was getting in that water, darn it!! We got in and he was ecstatic. 20 short minutes later and we are out. He's not very happy, but happier than he was! Then he was running along the sidewalk and he did a total face plant on the concrete that was 4000 degrees.
This non-motherhood gig is for the birds.