Balloons and Heaven....or Hell

Aaron got a mylar balloon (filled with helium) last week when we went to the dollar store. That's his favorite treat there and I certainly don't mind because there's no sugar added and he doesn't know how to inhale it to make himself talk funny (yet). He's been playing with it for about a week now and it was starting to lose the helium. Apparenlty he thought it wouldn't float away anymore because he took it outside and let it go. He came in to ask me to get his balloon, but it was too far gone.

He didn't cry, but it looked like he might, so I figured I'd console him by telling him that his balloon had gone to Papa in heaven.

"Papa not up there!" he told me. "Papa's down." Now, my first thought was how the hell does he know that?, but then I realized that he doesn't understand my dad is dead. Anyway, he's decided now that his balloon is on the way to the moon and as long as it doesn't have a close encounter with the sun it'll be back tomorrow.

And for anyone who's staring at this screen, aghast that I could intimate my dad is in hell: Get over it. He'd laugh as hard as I did. I know exactly where he is. He's on the shelf above my couch. At least part of him is. You'll have to ask my sister about the rest of him. Or my brothers. Or my aunt. Or (and this is just for you Stacie) THE FISHES!