Go ahead, call me the Grinch who stole summer. I’m yelling it loud and proud: I HATE BUBBLES!!* I see your side-eye. I get it, bubbles are a staple of hot weather, a symbol of childhood. And kids freaking love them. I just don’t understand it. That and fireworks. And sandboxes. And pet hamsters. Ew.
I remember the first time I ever had the idea to do bubbles with my girl. I was wheeling her around CVS sometime in the spring, waiting for probably her 12th pink eye prescription of the year. We came to the
booby trap evil trick outdoor toy section and happened upon a display of bubbles. Stars appeared in my eyes, and I pictured my baby with a huge grin on her face, frolicking after bubbles in our yard, her hair bouncing and shining in the sun. Like a typical first-time mom, I practically bought them out; we arrived home with a big bottle and a box of six small bottles of bubbles.