Pity The Poor Pony

Some days, it sucks to be The Pony.

He had to wake up early to ride along to drop off #1 at his basketball camp. This trip included stops to get gas, and pick up packages and stamps at the post office.

He couldn't find one of the black pants roosters, which has apparently flown the coop and hasn't been seen since yesterday.

He found two eggs this morning, but dropped them on his second trip to check on the fowl. That's because he was swinging his little Easter basket, which was still full of the first two eggs.

He caught the bloodthirsty shepherd, Ann, laying in the front yard with a half-grown rabbit between her paws. "It is still breathing, Mom. I think it can't get away because she broke its legs." I told him that she probably bit its back and paralyzed it, and that we can't help it, because it will just die anyway. "Yeah. There is a spot on its back with no fur. That must be where she bit it."

He clogged the toilet right before we left to pick up #1.

He only took in his Nintendo DS instead of a book, and his battery went dead. I said he could go to the car and look for a book, but to be careful not to trip (he insists on wearing those Nike flip-flop thingies, and trips every third step). The Pony assured me that he would not trip.

He tripped up the concrete steps of the college fieldhouse, and cut a small hunk out of his wrist with the car keys. And the players were taking a break and saw him.

He got drenched in a downpour on his way to and from the car to get his book. His clothes were soaked, and his glasses.

I am keeping him away from sharp objects this evening.