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So a coworker of mine wants to enroll her kid in riding lessons and came to me for advice. Not the “where should I take little Kingston Yale,” but the “so tell me what having horses is really like!”
Usually, this elicits an awkward silence and expression that can only be described as a hemorrhoid grimace on my part. But, because my workspace is next to the office’s only bathroom and one of our project managers has either epic diarrhea or an alien crawling out of his ass, I welcomed the diversion.
Riding, I said, is like a religious calling. By signing up precious Aurora Jade, you’re enrolling her in the Holy Order of Equestrians.
But you still have to be up at 4AM to feed Fahvenpoughkeepsie (pronounced Christopher) so he has the strength to stomp you again.
You should so do it, I encouraged her. Fresh air is really good for kids. Oh, your daughter’s skin is the same color as Elmer’s Glue? Uh, well, she’ll learn a new set of skills!
After all who hasn’t seen a kid shove two fingers up one nostril while waiting for her pony to do something…anything. And she’ll certainly learn to wash her hands, which is something none of my coworkers have yet to grasp.
So here’s to the new order!