In order to break up a long car trip, we decided to stop half way at a country fair. This was "great fun." At one point, between sticky food and stickier rides, I saw a sign for pony rides.
Wanting to add a little class and culture to the event, I dragged Baby Boy and Darling Husband over to the ring. I could hardly wait to to have pictures of the boy atop a small brown beast.
Because of the heat, upon approach, I saw all of the ponies were laying down in the shade barely moving.
I elbowed my husband. "This is quite the scam," I whispered. "All of the ponies are dead."
Apparently, I misjudged the hearing of the children around us. The wails of panic that all the ponies were dead filled the air along with dirty glares from the parents--all of whom were smoking and trying to hide beers in their armpits.
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