|Yep, we are ALL about class!|
Seriously, it's not like I don't love my kids, but sometimes they're a real pain in the a$$, ya know? It's nice to just get in the car and go, with no yelling "There is no earthly need for five costume changes! No one cares what you look like! I am leaving in 5 seconds and if you're not in the car you're not going to like the direction your day will be going in!"
When I'm solo, no one tells me how to drive, or that they forgot their boots, half chaps, or spurs. Nor do I need to do the post-ride departure countdown, "We are leaving this barn in 5 minutes. Did you finish cleaning your tack/rolling your wraps/sweeping the aisle/turning out the light? I don't have to lose my mind and patience as my youngest child fiddle-farts around, talking to the cats, staring at cobwebs, or perfecting her "model pose." More than one evening has ended with my son and I driving away from the barn with Sophie running behind the car yelling, "Wait for me!" and with me yelling back, "You'd better run faster! I told you we were leaving in 5 minutes and it's not my fault you didn't listen." Yeah, I know, no Mother of the Year trophies for me.
So last night I rode with a girlfriend. After our ride we had a glass of wine and chatted a bit while we cleaned up the horses. Actually, we didn't have a "glass" of wine. There were no cups, so we improvised and used the scoops from my friend's supplement containers. Um, possible sign of alcohol problem? Hell no! It's a sign of resourcefulness!
When she left I pulled the pony out of her stall, groomed her and loved on her a bit. I even got ambitious and pulled her mane, which she was less than thrilled about. She's so cute -- she puts her chin on my shoulder and eyeballs me, with an "I may be small but I could put a hurtin' on you if I wanted to" look on her sassy little face.
|Quit yanking my darn hair out, Mom!|
Thanks for reading!