Moms are a funny sort. They send care packages to their distant sons with the most random of contents. My brother gets rainbow candies and other college-friendly food stuffs. We both love when Mom sends cookies and chocolates! These things make total sense. Some of things we receive… well… do not–at least not immediately.
This Christmas, Mom sent bubbles. She said to expect a box of cookies, and I found a box of cookies plus bubbles. It’s not a bad haul for a care package. The cookies were awesome and barely lasted two days between us. The bubbles, well, they have me stumped.
Bubbles need an audience. A victim helps too. Someone blows the bubbles and someone else jumps around sillily popping them! I could be both, but wouldn’t that turn into a viral Vine video? The neighbors would also double lock their doors if they aren’t already!
Some dogs love to jump and bite at bubbles. I remember Tess having a good time with frozen bubbles in Alaska. Eric’s dog, Dotti, looks at bubbles in utter confusion. The bubbles fly, her eyes turn glassy, and she crawls beneath the furthest table or bed for cover. If the bubbles pop before she has a chance to run, she looks relieved!
The dog won’t play along. The neighbors won’t understand. Even the feral cats run away. I really need to find some young kids. They love bubbles! And then I think twice about waiting for the school bus or taking bubbles to a playground full of other people’s kids. Both sound like a good way to blow bubbles… in jail.
In lieu of entertainment, I must find a practical use for these bubbles. They won’t wash the dishes very well, and they aren’t sudsy enough to wash the bike either. But all is not lost; these wonderful bubbles are just what I need to find the leak in my air mattress!
Thanks for the bubbles, Mom!