So, there is something really exciting about water balloons when we are kids. Something about hurling a solid object at another person just fills us with joy. There's just no better feeling than watching that balloon hit them in the face and then they scream and yell and act all offended, like we wronged them in some way. It's an incredible feeling.
When I was a kid, I went to church camp each summer for a week. When I was in 4th grade, all the guys in my cabin from my church loaded the launcher and begin to shoot water balloons across the camp at the girl's cabins. We broke the rules, terrorized the camp and were better kids for doing so. It wasn't until the next year when we found out that our balloons broke through the crappy dorm ceilings and tiles fell on girls. Ha ha ha. Sorry. We broke windows too! We were legends. So of course we did it again the next year. Clearly.
Side note: Retelling that story tells me so much about myself and my personal quest to break the rules and shatter preconceptions in the church. Anyways.
Tonight, as I have so many times before as a child, I filled up water balloons with my friends, we took out the launcher, and launched them at one another in the streets. What's wrong with that? Nothing at all. Except we were trying to get hit. It was the goal and I am pleased to say that we were all hurtfully pegged with a water balloon and the bruises on our skin will serve as trophies of our evening of fun.
It thrills me to know that one day, I will be hurling water balloons at my children. Isn't that a wonderful thought? It really is.