Still here? Great. Let's begin.
So the original tutorial I found gave some basic directions on how to make the wands for these huge ass bubbles. It seemed fun, and if it was an epic fail it was summer and I could potentially hose the children down and/or burn the evidence of this craft, so I gathered up the shit I needed. Some dowel rods. Some eye hooks and washers. Cotton string. I measured the children up and cut the string. Then I needed to insert the eye hooks into the ends of the dowel rods.
Now the lady at that link said something about just screwing them in without drilling first. Fuck. That. Shit. It was hurting my little fingies, and I need those to unscrew the top of the margarita mix and my Xanax bottle once Alexis's friend headed home, amirite? So I grabbed my husband's drill and a teeny drill bit, but the drill already had a screwdriver head on it so I had to find him to get it off and put the new bit on. For some reason I can't fucking figure out how to do that on a drill. I hand the drill and the bit to him, and he looks at me with the wariness of a man who is married to a crazy lady who likes to do crazy things. Like this one time, when I was like 7 months pregnant, I started to dig up what I thought was a small rock in our yard, and it ended up being one that required two men to lift and a wheelbarrow to transport to what I was told had to be its forever home because he wasn't ever fucking moving that fucking huge ass thing again. (In my husband's defense, he doesn't swear that much at all, so I may have added some extra emphasis there with the cussing. His tone totally said all that though.)
Anyways, I get the wands all set up and then realize...these are fucking nunchucks. With an extra added bonus of a washer to add some extra knockout power. What made me think that giving Charlie these was a good idea?
Sure, give three children under the age of 10 these potential weapons. What could possibly go wrong?
At this point, I start to question my (remaining, because let's be honest, there wasn't much there) sanity and really wish it would be ok to just start pounding the wine. Since I am a semi-responsible adult, I refrain and move on to creating the bubble mixture.
Now, in that original tutorial, the video shows the bubbles not lasting very long. Of course, I am all like fuck that shit, our bubbles are going to last longer. Tiger mom, remember? So I hit Google up, go to a second tutorial, and mix some magic bubble potion up.
That is baking power on the floor next to the bubbles. I promise. Semi-responsible, remember?
We were supposed to let the mixture sit for an hour at least, but of course I can't be arsed to follow the directions so we head out after 20 minutes. I mentally prepare myself for the possibility of this being as big a failure as Sean Spicer's spins on his boss's rhetoric while attempting to hide in shrubbery, and gather up the children to head outside to try this out.
And you know what? Holy fucking shitballs, it works.
No spin needed here, Spicey! These are tremendous bubbles!
A twofer, even!
So there you have it folks, my first very lazy tutorial on how to make big ass bubbles. On a ranking scale of being able to be sober to necessitating speed-balling to get through, this one is one I can handle without the aid of pharmaceuticals.