This little balloon lasted a LONG time - over a week. Finally, time and dragging it back and forth to the car and the house got to it, and it popped releasing the rest of its helium air. For those of you who know Case, you might guess how he reacted. At times, he can be a little high-strung. This balloon collapsing after Baby squeezed the life out of it called for a semi-meltdown (I say "semi" because he's had bigger meltdowns). Case wanted me to fix it. He even pointed out the tear and told me, "That's where you fix it, Mama." He instructed me to blow it up again.
Sigh. Wish I could have. I even tried - showing him it doesn't work that way. My first reaction when I saw the meltdown coming on was to think, What's the big deal? It's a balloon you play with SOMETIMES and you're mainly upset that Baby popped it.
But then I remembered that in my son's world, this balloon popping is a big deal. He doesn't realize that balloons are a dime a dozen; that he could get another one next time we go somewhere. He's in the here and now, and he's still learning to look forward. After we lamented the balloon popping, we brought it outside with us while we played with the bubbles. I think Case thought that our last resuscitation attempt should involve the wind picking the balloon up. When that didn't work, Casen dragged it around for a bit then left it on the porch. He told me it was old, broken, and needed to go in the trash. He just needed some time (and some patience and empathy from Mama) to figure out that it was OK that the balloon was gone.