Yesterday, Dan and I went shopping for a new bedroom set with all three girls. From the moment we entered the store, every third sentence out of my mouth was either "Don't jump on the beds!" or "Get your boots off the sofas!". Finally, I took their boots off and the focus became keeping them from jumping on every bed in sight. In order to allow Dan and I 5 seconds to look at the beds, the salesperson, Sandi (with an "i"), took the twins for a walk around the store and gave them each a helium balloon on a stick. I found the twins wandering the store ALONE (thanks, Sandi) calling "Mummy, where are you?".
Within minutes, Katie's balloon came off her stick and floated to the ceiling. Katie, Bethie, and I panicked and demanded that Dan use his superpowers to retrieve it. Dan masterfully tried to reinsert the stick back into the plastic thingy that was attached to the balloon. He almost had it (I was super impressed) but, alas, it bounced away. The panic levels increased dramatically! The balloon had stopped above a an expensive display bedroom set. I told Dan to stand on the bed and grab it. Dan really didn't want to do it, but his love for our family won out. So my 35 year old husband stood on the bed, reached for the balloon, and knocked it a little bit further away. He jumped on the bed, and missed. He jumped again and Our Hero caught that naughty balloon! The girls were thrilled. So thrilled that they shouted "GOOD JOB JUMPING ON THE BED, DADDY!". The funny thing about our girls is that they kept repeating this until Dan said "Thank you", but all Dan was saying was "Stop saying that! Don't shout!". I was no help. I was bent over laughing!