Balloons

1 hour planning. 45 seconds blocking the stairs while covertly getting spare key from Becca. 1 day realizing that those plans won't work. 30 minutes planning a second idea. 2 hours shopping at Walmart. 4 hours going to an awesome concert. 25 minutes eating at Whataburger. 3 seconds for Dale deciding to help. 20 minutes scoping out the territory while driving to Julie's. 5 minutes standing outside and tapping on Julie's window like creepers. 1 hour blowing up 45 balloons. 10 minutes loading said balloons into cars. 5 seconds realizing we have no where near enough balloons. 20 minutes driving to Walmart. 5 minutes finding balloons. 3 minutes buying 60 of them. 20 minutes driving back to Julie's house while blowing up said balloons. 3 minutes gathering supplies at Julie's. 5 minutes driving to Beth's. 2 seconds opening car doors. 1 second watching in horror as several balloons escape. 2 minutes collecting loose balloons. 15 seconds walking to the gray Hyundai Sonata. 4 seconds getting out spare key. .5 seconds turning key left. 2 seconds failing to open door. .5 seconds turning key right. Same .5 seconds setting off car alarm. 2 seconds soiling our pants while making panicky eye contact. 7 seconds bolting to back to own cars. .1 seconds deciding not to jump in through open window. 5 seconds opening door and sitting. 4 seconds trying to start car with the spare key. 3 seconds panicking. 2 seconds looking out window and checking top of the car. 3 seconds almost knocking keys off of car. 2 seconds attempting to start car without brake down. 5 seconds revving engine while not realizing that the accelerator is down and not the brake pedal. 1 second putting car into gear. 20 seconds getting the **** out of there. 10 minutes driving back to my house. 5 minutes calming down and explaining the situation to my mom. .1 second realizing we'd left tissue paper on her car. 1 second of analyzing for Dale to drop the obligatory f-bomb. 10 minutes driving back to Julies to change cars. 5 minutes driving by Beth's testing the remote key. 1 second sigh of relief at it working. 1 minute finding an out of the way parking spot. 5 minutes sneaking through alleys and side yards up to the car. 10 seconds crawling up to tissue paper. 2 seconds sprinting back through said alleys and side yards to Julie's car. 5 minutes driving back to Julie's. 10 minutes driving back home to retire for the night.

Who knew asking someone to Prom could be so intense?