Our Friends, Papadohs

We have a funny relationship with balloons in our house. Prior to each birthday, there will be no less than 517 colourful balloons, blown up and hung about the house. Still more will cover the living room floor, and teeny tiny ones can be found floating in the fish tank. Open the fridge and out will pour dozens of the things. Try to take a shower that morning, and you wont be able to find the shampoo for all of the balloons. There are so many balloons throughout our house that I’m surprised we don’t end up floating away, like in the movie “Up”.

I may have exaggerated slightly, but what would writing be without a little embellishment? Just ask the US Republican party, when they talk about how horrifying our way of life up here in Canada is, where portraits of all the great Socialist leaders hang in everyone’s house. The horrors of Universal Heath Care! After all, I know that my first thought when Tevye was born was “Dang, I so wish that I was allowed to pay tens of thousands of dollars for this, out of my own pocket”… Oops, I may have jumped off-track, and on to the Rant Express. “All aboard! Next stop, Angry Town”.

So yeah, balloons. Mama always does a very nice and tasteful job decorating the house with balloons and streamers for the kids’ birthdays. Once the birthday is over, the balloons and streamers are generally taken down, and the children play with them extensively. For months afterwards, I will find balloons in different places of the house.

After Saarah’s most recent birthday, which wasn’t overly recent now, they made up a new game. They would pretend that the balloons were their friends. These friends, collectively known as Papadohs, would get up to all sorts of shenanigans. Sometimes they would need to be rescued from wild animals or evil monsters, while other times they were babies and were having a nap. Much like when Saarah’s babies are “napping” and I get told to shush, otherwise I’d wake her baby, I would also get shushed when the Papadohs were sleeping. At one point, I may or may not have kidnapped some of the Papadohs and hidden them cleverly behind the couch. I’m not admitting anything, and you can’t make me talk!

Like so many times before, I have absolutely no idea where they came up with this word, or why it’s stuck.

One final note, the picture at the top of this piece is not mine. Don’t worry though, I used something licensed for use in such a manner. I bring this up because with all of the pictures we have of the children, and especially at birthdays, combined with average lifespan of Papadohs in our house, you’d be inclined to think that I’d be able to find a picture of our children playing with balloons. Nope.

6 Responses to “Our Friends, Papadohs”
  1. Melissa says:

    I think Papadoh is one of my most favorite words ever. That is really cool!

    We get our kids one (1) (uno) (singular) helium balloon for their birthdays. It lasts forever. I hate those things. As they lose air, they start to follow you around the house. I am going to teach my children the word Papadoh and insist that they use it instead of balloons.

  2. I have to say your kids have an amazing imagination!! perhaps they get it from their Tatte?
    I like what they named their balloon friends 🙂 Kids do seem to have a nack for coming up with unusual names for things that stick. My boy would call his blanket his “guuny”..no idea why but that was what it was called.

  3. Lynne Ayers says:

    My daughter called her doll Um … couldn’t figure you why until one day I heard myself saying, “Where is your doll? Go gettum”.

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