The short people. The bubbles. The true love. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
And also? Bubbles are superfun to photograph. Seriously. I shot over 400 pictures in fifteen minutes. I have a crazy trigger finger, yo.
So I DM'ed Gazillion Bubbles speedy quick. And they said my blog was cute (really? cute? is it?) and sent us a big honking package in the mail. And then the weather was icky, and there was the rain, and the cold, and the windy, and then, one fine day, we just couldn't wait any longer. And that little bubble machine was big fun.
The bubble machine was a huge hit with all five of the short people (Elliott was sleeping, and we borrowed a few). But the four year olds? LURVED THAT THING, I tell you. We set it directly on the grass at first, and, meh, bubbles, yeah, cool. But then we plopped that there Gazillion Bubbles machine on the back of our little red wagon, and that is when the crazy erupted.
This is my girl, Cute Mystery Woman, giving me the Finger of Warning not to post any pictures of her on my blog. That's why I doctored her up real good so nobody will recognize her. You're welcome, mama, don't say I've never done anything for you. Also, please do not think that I am saying that Cute Mystery Woman erupts with teh crazies. Because I'm not saying that. Especially on the interwebs. She only erupts butterflies and clouds and marshmallows and love and blue moons. Never crazy.
I would like to take a moment to address the Catching of The Bubbles On The Tongue. But I don't even know where to begin.
Except there is no moving on. If you give your four year-old a tongue, they will want a bubble to catch on it.
And should said four year-old catch said bubble, the bubble will be promptly consumed. Possibly. Unless it pops first.
Thanks for the superfun afternoon of bubble chasing (and eating). We had a blast.