Balloon Animals (Girl Power Series)

Chapter 1 - Vacancy

This is the last one. My achy back says it has to be. According to the list next to me I need 50 favor bags, but I seem to have materials over. I feel so tired.

I stand up from my place on the floor and begin to count the pink favor bags spread all over the couches and coffee table in my living room. Twenty three... I need to go to the bathroom... twenty four... do I have ice cream? Thirty... Thirty? Oh dammit, I lost my count.

I count out loud this time and try my best to not get side tracked. I still have Swarovski crowns left and two pairs of silk wings left. Am I really missing two? I'm so tired. Maybe I should continue tomorrow. I look at the kitchen clock and sigh. It is tomorrow already.

I need to be at the venue at noon to decorate, although the party doesn't start until two. It will give me time to accommodate the unreasonable requests of the mom. I know I'm generalizing, but my past experiences seem to have that detail in common. I lift my arms to strecht my back. The recent hot glue burn on my hand glows red. I pop a few M&Ms in my mouth and sit on the floor to continue my task.

The front door clicks and my roommate Peyton enters the house. Her long red hair is messy and she carries a pair of heels in her hands. She freezes when she sees me.

"I thought you were sleeping, Tania," she says.

"I thought you were sleeping, and here you are doing a walk of shame," I chuckle.

"I didn't plan to, but I had a hard week and he was so cute," she throws her heels on a corner and plops on the couch.

"Watch out! You almost sat on the favors!"

Peyton picks one bag and examines it with her big hazel eyes. The bag has a tulle skirt, held with glittery ribon and a pink rose. Inside, ridiculously expensive trinkets, such a gold plated picture frame, and candy fills it.

"This is beautiful, but I don't know why you bother. It isn't like those brats appreciate the detail and time you put in your work," she places the bag back with the rest.

"The moms hire me not the kids. They expect this sort of work for their money. And trust me, I want their money," I shrug and continue to glue pieces of tulle.

"A waste of it if you ask me. The worst part is they will never be content with what they get. They always want the next party to be bigger and better,"

"I don't mind. It pays the bills, my savings account is getting thicker and my vacation pot is filling up nicely,"

When I graduated with a degree in interior design, I never imagined I would end up styling birthdays for the rich moms in my area.

It all started when one of my cousins asked me for help with her daughter's birthday. Our family is big and something as simple as making a few candy bags turns into mass production.

I had some time in my hands back then and got a few yards of fabric, paper fans and crepe rolls. They ended up becoming a lovely background to the cake table and additional tablecloths. I made pastel paper flowers from tissue paper and glued butterflies to them. The bland room turned into a magical garden when I strung a few old sets of Christmas lights.

My cousin had invited a few kids from wealthy families. Their moms were blown away by the decorations and asked me if I had a business card. I lied and said they were being designed, but messaged them my contact details.

Since then, I've never printed a card because they referred me to each other. I do have a website I use as a portfolio. The moms brag to each other when I upload the photos of an event. Animal Balloons exists now for six years and is still going strong.

"The problem is you never take time off to take that imaginary vacation," Peyton looks at me with concern. "You have money enough for a few luxury get-aways but no time to do it,"

"And how was the guy? Worth a second round?" I ask as I place the bag on the coffee table and grab the last one.

"Okay, change the topic. It doesn't change the fact that you are 30 years old and have bags under your eyes,"

"Ouch Peyton! That is harsh," I feign insult.

"It's the truth. About the guy, he was good in bed. He isn't exactly my type but he was so sweet. He has the loveliest puppy eyes and the body of a god. He asked me to stay and offered to cook breakfast. I politely declined cause I wanted to get in before you woke up,"

I burst out in laughter. That was one failed plan.

"What's the guy's name?"

Peyton's face goes blank, she then frowns and scrunches her nose.

"Wait! I saved his number in my phone," she rummages in her bag. "His name is..." she laughs hard. "I wrote Cutie. Dammit, I'm in trouble,"

Typical Peyton.

I let out a loud and shameless yawn. "I'm going to bed. I can only sleep for four hours but it will have to do,"

"Now? You haven't slept at all? It's six in the morning!"

"I had to finish this. The birthday is this afternoon and I might be late if I leave it for tomorrow... today... later... oh you know what I mean,"

"I know what you mean and it's that the lack of sleep is making you lose your mind. You can't go on like this. You will burn out!"

"I'm fine. I can't afford to pause. The demand is still high," I sigh.

"Get an assistant then. Otherwise you will die and never enjoy a vacation,"

"Peyton, do you want to work with me?"

"Oh hell no! I don't even know how you stand being surrounded by kids. The noises, the cries, the sticky hands," she shudders.

"Then how do you think I will find an assistant? Not everyone is willing to go through all of this," I motion with my hand at the pink mess around the room. "And then spend more hours at the party,"

"Run it through an agency. Let them do the search work for you,"

I never thought of it. It isn't a bad idea after all. Peyton heads to her bedroom and I shuffle my feet to mine. Instead of going to sleep, I get my laptop and search for an agency. Their sign up system is simple enough and soon I'm on a page for my request.

Position: Children Events Assistant

I can't think of anything more appropriate than that. Not only I do styling, I often get hired to entertain the kids.

Hours: starting at 20 hours

If I could make the word starting in bold, I would have done it. My work week is ridiculous at times. The things I could do with 20 hours free! Like sleep!

Education: ...

The correct answer would be behavioral psychologist for the moms, law enforcement for the kids.

Education: high school diploma

I swear that reading, writing, and basic math will be enough.

Experience: customer service

Everything else you learn on the job. The most important is patience to not strangle nasty kids with a balloon sword. On the last party, a boy grabbed my boob. The mom laughed with delight and told everyone her kid was a man.

I finish the ad with the usual. The candidate needs to be punctual, multi-tasker, creative and affinity with children is definitely a plus. I hit the send button and stare at the screen. What did I just do?