It's probably a good thing that I'm married, because there's no way I'd be able to attract another potential mate at this point, even if I'd wanted to. Most days I am dressed in an old t-shirt picked up at a concert/pub/sports event. Usually said t-shirt is covered in horse slobber or whatever I've been cooking and have absentmindedly wiped on myself. I've been known to run out to Cumberland Farms in my rubber duckie pj's if there's no milk for my morning latte. Add to all of this the fact that I rarely wear makeup and leave the car windows open so my hair sticks up like Heat Miser's, and I think you get where I'm going with this.
However, I think I hit a new high (low?) the other night. It was a gajillion degrees in the shade, and I went down to the barn to hose down my sweaty mare and a friend's horse. By the time I got to the barn, the heat had dropped a bit and I decided it would be fun to channel my inner child and hop up on my horse bareback and have a nice relaxing ride.
We played around, working on lateral movements and over some ground poles. I hopped off after about 15 minutes and hosed her off, then grazed her. I then grabbed my friend's horse and hopped on him for more of the same.
After I was done with the second horse I hosed him off, paying cursory attention to hosing off my legs, which had taken on quite a bit of hair from each horse -- a lovely, itchy mix of gray and brown. However, I forgot one key area of my anatomy that had been in contact with the horses. Apparently my ass was COVERED in horse hair, a fact which largely escaped me even when I wandered in to the local Kings in search of a beverage for the ride home. I noticed quite a few people staring, many of them smiling, and a few outright laughing. Didn't really think much of it (again, I go to the store in my pj's) until I got home and the aforementioned husband fell down laughing, pointing to my butt and choking out a word that sounded vaguely like Sasquatch in between gales of laughter.
Oh well, the cats thought I looked pretty good.
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