This morning my alarm rang hours before the sun was up, and Liam, thinking it was time to come visit Mama and Daddy's bed for some early morning sleepy cuddles, was surprised to find me up and getting ready.
"Ready for a surprise?"
"What surprise, Mama? Chuck E. Cheese?"
"Not Chuck E. Cheese. Guess again."
"The pumpkin patch?"
"That's later today with Daddy and your sisters."
His third guess was correct.
"The balloon festival?"
Last night while we were watching the news before dinner, a segment about the Plano Balloon Festival aired, and Liam remembered going last year and mentioned that he wanted to go again this year. And that's when my surprise plan started to brew and take shape.
So that's why we were pulling out of the driveway at 5:15 this morning. It was totally worth a few less hours of sleep to see how excited Liam was as we entered the gates and saw the glowing, inflated colorful sacks, heard the clapping crowd, and smelled the flames.
It was dark as the first balloons began to glow, and before we knew it, twenty or so joined them. As the sun rose, so did the balloons. Over a breakfast consisting of funnel cakes, dippin' dots, and strong coffee (for me), we watched as they floated away.
I believe a new tradition has begun.
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