BUBBLES ARE MAGIC

Bubbles make me smile. The solution is a mixture of oily rainbow colors stretched across round wand tips, moving in a psychedelic light show. Breeze from nature or mouth expands the slick, threatening to snap, but it doesn't. I grows, billows out until it lets go and drifts with the air of our atmosphere. We chase them, reach for them, try to catch them, pop them, eat them. For a moment in time we are innocent and on a quest. We are children regardless of age.

Grace had a bubble party for her birthday. Bubble technology has improved. Now there are bubble machines that pump out 5000 bubbles a minute. I bought one of these machines. I hooked it up and turned it on. Our yard was engulfed in magical bubbles. The children that came to the party were running around, screaming at the top of their lungs as they ran through this cloud of dancing soap suds. I bought a variety of personal bubble making devices as well: wands, gadgets, fans, sticks, and guns. It was AWESOME! Everyone was laughing and squealing and enjoying each other.

Magic. Wonder. Bubbles. Love. Cake.