Balloons are a Gift from Satan

Balloons are a Gift from Satan
A Weekly Eckstra Column


The Devil puts many things in this world to tempt and frustrate us. While not necessarily bad or evil in their own right, these temptations, when enjoyed in excess, can lead to problems. Some examples of this are Facebook, Sprecher products, gourmet ice cream, and pictures of Jennifer Anniston or George Clooney (insert you own favorites here). I’m firmly convinced that balloons are one of the Devil’s gifts, put on this earth to tempt children and eternally frustrate parents.

I hate balloons. I am not the kind of person who likes to hate anything but can’t help but to hate balloons. To clarify, I don’t hate the type of balloons that serve some sort of practical purpose, such as hot air balloons and balloons used in healthcare procedures. I hate your common everyday balloon given to children at parties and restaurants. Nothing good can come out of giving a child a balloon! While balloons produce momentary glee on the faces of children, they ultimately lead to sadness, tears, and depression. I speak from firsthand experience. Once Cassie received a helium-filled balloon from the local Applebees (Tommy was still a baby). After we reached our next destination and opened her car door, the change in air pressure sucked her balloon out of the SUV and into the heavens. Tears and a fit ensued and we eventually drove five miles back to the restaurant for a new one.

We just experienced a reenactment of this situation. On Sunday, we enjoyed lunch at Red Robin in St. Louis with my parents and cousin Johnny. Red Robin has a plethora of brightly colored balloons at the entrance of the restaurant. (Satan is obviously a leading investor for Red Robin, along with his financial holdings of Applebees and TGI Fridays.) We told the children that they could not have a balloon because we are traveling and were about to depart for Datyon. We ultimately gave in, mostly because Tommy refused to go to the bathroom until he was granted a balloon (hey, I’m a softie and a four-year-old who consumed four cups of lemonade really needs to go to the bathroom before the start of a six-hour drive.) As we got the kids into the car, I thought to myself, “How long are these balloons going to make it.” The answer was about two hours. For the first two hours of the trip, the kids beat each other with their balloons and took turns using their balloon to block the view of the screen of the DVD player. We stopped for gas and a break in Central Illinois. When the door to the minivan opened Tommy’s red balloon was sucked up into the atmosphere. I tried in vain for a couple of seconds to grab it as Tommy’s tears had already begun. Cari tried to help, saying, “It’s okay Tommy. We’ll get you another balloon . . . someday.”

Even if they make it home, balloons simply don’t last. They either pop from playing with them or lose air the first night they are in the house. Balloons are also a source of frustration at one of our favorite local all-you-can-eat buffets. A creepy clown often works the crowd at this restaurant, giving balloon hats to the children (and also to the super hot women). He wears a big button that reads, “I’m paid only by your tips.” I should ignore this but always find myself paying the scary man a dollar. The buffet balloons not only cause problems (such as getting caught in the mac-n- cheese and dessert selections); they also cost me money!

Balloons also cause me problems from friends who know how much I hate balloons. “Former” dear friends and EckSpot subscribers Matt and Meg Frankovis decided to introduce chaos by purchasing a balloon for Cassie during our recent trip to the Wisconsin Dells. The problem was that they bought a balloon only for Cassie, not for Tommy nor the other two children who were with us. As you can imagine, Cassie did her “I have something Tommy does not have” dance and the three kids without balloons were none too happy. I bought a balloon for Tommy which was somehow defective, causing more crying. The restaurant replaced Tommy’s balloon (they actually have a little machine that defrauds parents out of $1 for a balloon), although I refused to talk to Meg or Matt for a good five minutes.

Nothing personifies Satan’s involvement in our lives more so than balloons. I suppose the actions of airline executives, parking attendants, and most elected officials come close. The next time you see a balloon, think of me pulling my graying hair out!