One day, little Johnny blew up a balloon and starts flicking it all around the house with his finger. He was having a great time and I know just how much fun he was having as I used to do that myself growing up, especially over the Christmas holidays when there were always balloons in the house. Anyway back to the story…
His mother told him to stop it, as the way he was going he was likely to break something, but little Johnny just carried on flicking his balloon all around the house.
“Johnny!” his mother screamed at him. “You are driving me crazy, knock it off before you break something!”
Yeah I know that feeling, I had my Grandmother, Aunt and my Mom all shout at me for the same reason.
Well, little Johnny stopped playing with his ballon and eventually his mother went out for a short trip to the shops.
A few minutes later, Johnny started up with the balloon again and he bounced it all around the house, until he ended up in the bathroom.
He gave the balloon one last flick and it landed in the toilet, where he decided to leave it.
A while later, his mother came home and while she was putting away the groceries, she suddenly got the the urge to go to the toilet.
Now she could tell that this was no ordinary urge, it was a diarrhoea type urge!!!
Well, she could hardly make it to the toilet in time, struggling to keep her legs together as she went up the stairs, then walked gingerly to the bathroom, where she lifted the toilet lid and SPLASH, out it came (I guess I don’t need to describe this in any great detail, we have all experienced it).
When she had finished, she looked down into the toilet and couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
She was not sure what this big brown thing was in the toilet! It definitely didn’t look normal and by now she was starting to get really worried.
So, in a panic, Johnny’s mother called her doctor.
She describes what she was seeing to the doctor and he was just as baffled as she was when she described the situation.
The doctor assured her that he would be over shortly to examine everything.
Well, about twenty minutes later, the doctor arrived, went upstairs to the bathroom, where he got down on his knees and took a long, hard look at the thing in the toilet.
Finally, out of curiosity, he took out his pen and sort of touched it to see what it might be.
Of course, as you might expect, the thing went POP!
The balloon exploded and frankly now poop was everywhere.
It was on the doctor and the bathroom walls. It was splattered all over the shower cubicle, the toilet, the walls, the mirror, not to mention the carpet. Literally everything in the bathroom was now covered in poop!
‘”octor! Doctor! Are you all right?” Johnny’s mother asked.
The doctor replied, “Well I never. I have been in this business for over 30 years and this is the first time I have ever actually seen a fart!”
You’re laughing aren’t you.. I know you are!!!
Image used under a Collective Commons License from: https://pixabay.com/en/balloon-vector-drawing-joke-red-2480283/
So anyway, now we have that story finished, over to my story of playing balloons when I was growing up, if you are happy to read for a bit longer and have a few more laughs.
We always went to my Grandmother’s house for the Christmas holidays and on Christmas Day there was always a balloon in our Christmas Crackers, plus there were always balloons as decorations pinned up around the house.
I used to spend countless hours flicking and batting those balloons around, much to my Grandmother’s annoyance and truth be known it most likely drove my parents and my aunt and uncle crazy as well.
One of my favourite tricks, other than flicking baloons all around, was to rub a balloon on my sweater, creating static electricity and then I would reach up and stick the balloon to the ceiling in the dining room. Quite often, I would have as many as a dozen balloons stuck up there and as none of the adults could easily reach them, after we went back home again after the holidays, there they remained until they deflated to the extent that they dropped to the ground on their own.
My Grandmother would get on the telephone to my Mum and complain about the black rings on the dining room ceiling, where the static electricity had attracted dust and of course after the balloons had drifted down, that black ring was left on the ceiling.
Fond memories of growing up and playing with balloons for me. Do you have any good ballon stories to relate? If so, please leave us a comment, there is a form at the bottom of the page.