I sat there at the kitchen table, hunched over my keyboard, finishing an article I was working on. The house was quiet, except for the sound of the ceiling fan, some soft music, and water trickling in the fountain on my counter.
A few minutes into my writing, I heard a noise…
I stopped and looked around, but didn’t see anything.
Thinking the sound must’ve been part of the music, I shrugged and went back to writing.
But then I heard it again…
I paused and listened harder.
Was the fridge making noise?
Was it my kids’ mice?
I got up and checked their cage, but the mice were sound asleep.
I sat back down to type.
And heard it again…
I have to admit, at that point, I got a little creeped-out.
Slowly, I got up and checked to make sure the front door was locked. Then I went back into the kitchen and began walking around, determined to get to the bottom of things.
And that’s when I saw it….
red balloon with a shoehorn tied to the bottom of it.
Don’t ask what.
Because I don’t know.
All I know is that it was another one of my son’s inventions, and the ceiling fan was blowing the balloon around on the tile, dragging the shoehorn with it.
Thus, the clinking noise.
I’m sure my son had a good reason for tying the shoehorn to the balloon.
Just like I’m sure he had a good reason for the tornado in the salad spinner. And the soap on the shower wall. And all the other creative things he comes up with.
And I should be thankful that he does.
Because life just wouldn’t be as fun without tarantulas hanging from my steering wheel. Or red balloons scooting around my kitchen. :)