Re: Best childhood loon memory
Another memory (or many) I had involved accidental busting.
Always loved sitting, bouncing and riding balloons throughout my life, and there were times where my dad would tease me with busting balloons.
When I was younger and growing into a teen, I was quite a fat boy, so I couldn't bounce on balloons much unless they were bigger sizes.
There were times when my dad would get me 16 and 17 inch balloons and blow them up for me to play with. But sometimes he would (on purpose) blow them up real big and tight and give them to me in hopes of them busting and scaring me.
It was common at birthdays, new years, or any time when there were balloons around.
He would blow up a 16 incher or 17 incher really big and tight with the neck shooting out, and he would instruct me to sit and bounce on them while he watched. And I was always happy to do that, and there I was sitting my fat butt on the balloons and bouncing and riding them.
And my dad would just watch and almost count down until my balloon would explode under my butt with a huge BANG! and resulting in me scared and crying my eyes out, and my dad would laugh and hold me and cuddle and comfort me.
He did this often, and sometimes he would overinflate balloons in front of me and scare me, or would roughouse with balloons. Sometimes, when I was playing with balloons, he would use his cigar to burst them and make me cry.
Another memory (or many) I had involved accidental busting.
Always loved sitting, bouncing and riding balloons throughout my life, and there were times where my dad would tease me with busting balloons.
When I was younger and growing into a teen, I was quite a fat boy, so I couldn't bounce on balloons much unless they were bigger sizes.
There were times when my dad would get me 16 and 17 inch balloons and blow them up for me to play with. But sometimes he would (on purpose) blow them up real big and tight and give them to me in hopes of them busting and scaring me.
It was common at birthdays, new years, or any time when there were balloons around.
He would blow up a 16 incher or 17 incher really big and tight with the neck shooting out, and he would instruct me to sit and bounce on them while he watched. And I was always happy to do that, and there I was sitting my fat butt on the balloons and bouncing and riding them.
And my dad would just watch and almost count down until my balloon would explode under my butt with a huge BANG! and resulting in me scared and crying my eyes out, and my dad would laugh and hold me and cuddle and comfort me.
He did this often, and sometimes he would overinflate balloons in front of me and scare me, or would roughouse with balloons. Sometimes, when I was playing with balloons, he would use his cigar to burst them and make me cry.
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