Bluecigar

Yesterday Isaac and I went to the Trader Joe’s for some rations. As we were checking out Isaac was offered a balloon, in the color of his choice (which happened to be orange). When we got home he really played with the balloon for the first time, bouncing it around on its string for a while then letting go. After it floated up to the ceiling he would point at it and say “Up high!”, and then turn to me with a beseeching look and say “Help.” At which point I would have to get up, pull down the balloon and hand it to him. We did this approximately four thousand times.

This morning when I got up I noticed that the balloon had lost its buoyancy, and was lying forlornly on the kitchen floor. I heard Isaac milling around in his room, and when I opened the door he was standing on his toy chest under the window, completely behind the curtain. He poked out his head and said “Hiding!” This was a pleasant and amusing greeting; the odor I was simultaneously assaulted with was not.

Fondly recalling my full time duties as the poopsmith I changed his diaper, and afterwards as I was cleaning up Isaac ran into the kitchen and found his balloon. He brought it into the bedroom and said “Up high!” and let it go, only to watch it fall back to floor. A puzzled look came across his face as he tried to fathom this change in behavior. He picked up the balloon, stared at it for a few seconds, then handed it to me and said “New batteries!”

I laud his problem solving skills, and look forward to them being connected to reality some day.