If you notice that as I write my blogs, many of them, I poke fun at myself and all the fun or funny little things I can or my friends and I can get into.
My ex-husband calls me "Lucy" and my mother called me "Grace".. go figure.. but again, if the shoe fits and I can tell you from first hand, I can wear that shoe like a glove.
When my sister and I were younger, she(my sister) had a pony and her name was Sandy. We loved that pony, she was like a member of the family than a barnyard critter. Sandy would never stay in her fence but would mind you, instead, be tied out on a rope in the yard and would stay all day roaming around the yard as long as the rope would reach. She loved to come into the living room and sit in front of the television and eat an apple. She loved the little banty roosters to come and sit on her back, she would stand there as still as a statue as long as they were sitting on her back. It was fun to watch.
On day my sister and I were arguing about who was going to feed her that day. Arguing came to push and shoving and right by Sandy. She would shuffle around a little more as our shoves became less playful. As Sandy became wedged in between us and the tree, she had found she had had enough of this game. Sandy polite as she could be, reached around and took a nip out of my behind. I yelled out a hallowing screech and dropped to my knees in pain, mind you. My sister asked what happened and I replied in a gasping voice.. "Sandy bit me" and as we looked up at the pony,she turned her head as if she were to say, "Who me?".....
The tale get it Tale of this little story is.... never stand to close to the head area of a riled up pony. It might come around and bite you in the Tail...
Thank you......
My ex-husband calls me "Lucy" and my mother called me "Grace".. go figure.. but again, if the shoe fits and I can tell you from first hand, I can wear that shoe like a glove.
When my sister and I were younger, she(my sister) had a pony and her name was Sandy. We loved that pony, she was like a member of the family than a barnyard critter. Sandy would never stay in her fence but would mind you, instead, be tied out on a rope in the yard and would stay all day roaming around the yard as long as the rope would reach. She loved to come into the living room and sit in front of the television and eat an apple. She loved the little banty roosters to come and sit on her back, she would stand there as still as a statue as long as they were sitting on her back. It was fun to watch.
On day my sister and I were arguing about who was going to feed her that day. Arguing came to push and shoving and right by Sandy. She would shuffle around a little more as our shoves became less playful. As Sandy became wedged in between us and the tree, she had found she had had enough of this game. Sandy polite as she could be, reached around and took a nip out of my behind. I yelled out a hallowing screech and dropped to my knees in pain, mind you. My sister asked what happened and I replied in a gasping voice.. "Sandy bit me" and as we looked up at the pony,she turned her head as if she were to say, "Who me?".....
The tale get it Tale of this little story is.... never stand to close to the head area of a riled up pony. It might come around and bite you in the Tail...
Thank you......
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