How balloon animals are changing my life

I learned how to make balloon animals last month. Guys, this is a skill that everyone can absolutely learn. We all should have been doing this years ago. It had just never crossed my radar as something I could do. It seemed like some kind of magic trick reserved for people in weird costumes. It turns out it’s not that hard at all, and it catches everyone off guard so the “awkward barrier” gets broken down. Every time. I’ll explain. 

The turning point in wanting to learn balloon animals came for me when I needed to plan an activity for my husband’s birthday party. He’s a big eight-year-old at heart, so I wanted the party to include some kind of play. Way back in the past, he spent a couple of summers doing clowning ministry (you read that right), and once when I was cleaning a closet I discovered a bunch of long skinny balloons and air pumps. Bingo! We could learn to make balloon animals! 

I set out trying to learn it on my own, because if it were possible for me, I was pretty sure everyone would be able to do it. Really. I’m not known for skillful hands. 

I watched a bunch of YouTube videos, popped a bunch of balloons (it didn’t hurt), made a bunch of mutilated little animals that untwisted when I let them go, and then figured out that you always have to “lock” your twists together so they stay twisted. One bulb will never stay put, but three or more bulbs twisted together will. That’s the entirety of balloon animal theory 101, and that was completely for free. 

Then I practiced. A lot.  It got to the point that Erik wanted to slaughter all the little animals I had made each day so they wouldn’t suddenly pop during the night (nothing’s quite as fun as getting woken up in the dead middle of the night by a loud bang)! 

During that time my sweet older lady neighbor ended up in the hospital, and her husband told us about it in the driveway with tears in his eyes. He dropped her room number in the conversation, so I figured I’d better try to go see her. I have been desperately trying to get to know my neighbors for over a year (it’s tricky in suburban America!) and this was a big old opportunity dropped in my lap. 

So when I had a free morning I decided to go see her. I knew it would be awkward, because I had never actually had a real conversation with her and wasn’t sure she would know who I am. (She didn’t.)  But before I left the house, I felt a nudge to put a couple balloons in my purse, just in case. 

So there I was in the hospital room, trying to make conversation with a lady I don’t know. It went on for a while, haltingly, and finally I decided to pull out my ammo. 

“I’ve been learning how to make balloon animals,” I blurted out. “Can I practice on you? Right now I’m working on elephants. That’s about all I can do.” 

That lady’s face lit up like someone had just brought in a birthday cake. Praise Jesus. She asked for a pink elephant and I got to work, praying I wouldn’t pop a balloon in a hospital and send someone into cardiac arrest. 

I know professional balloon animal makers are supposed to have some kind of “shtick” they run through while they’re making something, to keep everyone entertained. A joke or story or something. I had nothing. It takes all my concentration to remember the elephant parts (trunk, ear, ear, neck, pair of legs, body, pair of legs, tail… pray it’s not too long… bend the trunk down. Done. Whew.)  

But my neighbor saved me. She was so excited. She started to monologue about elephants, how much she loved them, and how she grew up learning about them because her mom was a big circus buff. (Is that even a thing?) She kept talking until I made the final twist (WITHOUT POPPING THE BALLOON!) and handed her the elephant. 

She was beaming at me, and I was already standing right in front of her, so I had the courage to ask her if I could pray for her before I went home. She enthusiastically agreed, and I prayed with her. That’s all–  no miraculous healing or anything. But somehow a wall came down. 

Then we hosted my husband’s birthday party. It could have been a disaster. We had people there from at least 3 different social circles who had never met each other, with a lot of already socially-challenged engineer types in the mix. But again… there was the magic of balloon animals! People mingled across social group lines. They dove into the balloon workshop with vigor and made a whole table full of various little creatures! We had such a good time. Three of the engineer types banded together, made swords and called themselves the Three Musketeers. One friend from the gym took a bunch of his creations home for his kids. 

Balloons saved the day again the next week.  I went to a pumpkin painting party at a lady’s house from my church women’s Bible study. Also potentially awkward, since everyone else there was a mom with preschoolers in tow, and I don’t have kids. But I stuck some balloons in my purse. (It’s so portable! And what preschooler doesn’t love a balloon animal?) 

Suddenly one little girl puked all over the floor.  (Actually, I should tell it like it happened. I was in the bathroom–  it’s sort of my fault– when I heard a commotion outside the door. She had been running for the bathroom but realized it was closed at the last minute and just let loose right in front of the door. So I came out of the bathroom, narrowly missed stepping in that lovely mess, and tried to figured out what could be done to help in the chaos that ensued. Preschool kids were running around, their moms were yelling at them to stay away from the puke, and the poor little girl who was sick started crying because her mom was telling her they’d have to go home right away. 

I’m inexperienced in cleaning up puke, so I left that to the expert moms, but there was one thing I could do. 

What’s the magical antidote when somebody pukes?  

BALLOON ANIMALS. 

I knelt down (not in the puke) and asked the girl if she’d like a balloon animal to take home. SHE STOPPED CRYING! It was magic. After I made her a little doggie to take home, of course all the other kids wanted them, so I became a movie star and made dogs and swords for everyone. The moms thanked me for entertaining their kids (and then making their lives miserable when the balloons popped, but I was gone by then). 

And after that, since I had mastered making dogs, the next time I visited my neighbor in the hospital I made her a little model of her dachshund at home whom she misses terribly. I kid you not, she was still cuddling with that balloon when I left her room ten minutes later. 

If you need help to break through a barrier of awkwardness, difficult social interaction, or puke… first you should probably talk to Jesus. But then you can praise Him for giving us balloon animals. 

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