So, since my kids needed something to do during The Pandemic Summer of 2021, (beyond pushing each others’ buttons, and gnawing on my very. last. nerve), we signed them up for riding lessons.
The local barn has been so kind – both towards my kids (The Boy is afraid of large animals) and towards our social distancing needs. They gave us a time slot with no other people, and were willing to remain masked the entire time – even when the kids were on their horses and the distance was well more than 6′.
That being said, we’ve had, count ’em, THREE LESSONS since July. It became a bit of a running joke, wondering what weather phenomenon would cancel lessons on any particular Tuesday.
This evening was no different. We’d already left the house before getting the message that things were a no-go as the vet had to be called.
This is, of course, the main reason I don’t tell my kids anything until we’re in the car.
If we’re invited to a birthday party, I’ll tell them as we’re rolling into the balloon-decorated driveway.
If we’re getting visitors, I’ll tell them as the guests roll into ours.
It just saves on me having to deal with disappointed kids.
Zero hopes dashed. Zero eardrums assaulted.
Since we’d already left, and the damage done, I decided to take them for a drive to the next town over, so we could drown their sorrows in Dollar Store garbage and Timbits.
The kids all picked something Hallowe’en-y (Viv got a wig. Rae, fake nails, and Gabe a sign that said DANGER! KEEP OUT!”) and their favourite deep-fried horror story, and as we were getting back into the car, declared this evening a win.
“BEST NIGHT EVER!”
Guys, how jazzed am I that I saved $60 AND was home in half the time?
Needless to say (and yet, here I am, saying it anyhow) all our bars are set tragically low.