Sadder than a orphaned kitten with 3 legs.

Today I saw the saddest thing. It was not a starving baby, or a blind puppy, it was a lost balloon (can I get an awww?) This lone bit of inflated plastic had floated to the ceiling of the supermarket and got stuck there. Not only was it sad in its pathetically helpless upside-down-turtle way, or its deflating saggyness (spell check doesn't know what to do with that one), but it was a kid's birthday balloon. As I am only 21 and it hasn't been too long since every visit into town included a trip to the Disney store (although most still do), I can imagine with almost painful empathy how the balloon's owner felt during that horrible moment when that last bit of ribbon floats just beyond your reach and you realise it's a goner.

I love balloons, but as a child I spent a lot of the time worrying I would accidentally let go, and so used to grasp it in a manner that involved digging my nails a good 1/4 inch into my palm. If, despite this, it did somehow escape my little hand I would then feel incredibly guilty that my parents had bought it for me and I had sent it to a cloudy death. Of course my parents didn't care, but my strict Disney upbringing had led me to personify every inanimate object I happened upon, and a belief that the balloon had feelings and was now crying, alone and afraid. I was an odd child...

So today when I saw this pitiful sight, not only did the idea of the heart-broken child distract me from the vegetable aisle for a second or two, but a deep seated need to rescue the balloon and tell it 'that everything would be okay' was stirred somewhere in my being. 

Damn you Disney/Pixar.  

                                                                     No, I didn't pick Up.