Pity The Poor Put-Upon Pony

I think he had forgotten, for a few months, what his life was like when his older brother lived here.

The Pony and  I peacefully coexist, doing what needs to be done for each other. Simpatico. No drama. No angst. A businesslike relationship. Our schedules mesh. We have each other's backs.

Re-enter the #1 son.

His birthday was on Thursday, so we had cards and gifts ready. One thing #1 loves is a good candle. They are banned in the dorm, you know. Not so here at the Mansion. Though it might be a good amendment to our constitution. He went off to the Rams game yesterday with a candle burning on his bookcase. I'm glad I saw it in the first half hour. No need for it to burn eight hours of drive time, lunch time, and game time.

Anyhoo, The Pony seemed pleased that his brother was home. He had a little smirk on his face. A liveliness that's been lacking. When #1 opened the gift of two candles from The Pony, he announced, "And they're even the smells I like!" Huh. I had argued with The Pony in the Devil's Playground. That #1 wouldn't like those. But he insisted. Yuck! I was sure he was making a big mistake. I couldn't stand those two aromas. Cranberry Mandarin, and Garden Rain. I was much more fond of Hazelnut and Cinnamon.

When #1 announced his liking of those candles. The Pony did not look up. He kept his eyes on his laptop screen, from where he was ensconced on the basement couch. But his little mustachioed lip curled up in victory. He was quite proud of his gift-picking skill. Kudos to him.

The Pony has been trotting to and fro to fetch things that the #1 son could easily get up off his duff and get for himself. No complaints. And here is how he was repaid this very evening...

I was brewing up a special batch of my world famous Chex Mix for my best old ex-teaching buddy Mabel. #1 kept invading the kitchen. He was developing film in his St. Louis Blues bathroom. "How do I get 1/32nd of 1000 ounces?" Hmpf. He's the one going to that fancy engineering college. I told him that. "Well, this is simple math. How do I get it?" Surely he jested. I was elbow-deep in Cheerios and Worcestershire Sauce and whole pecans. I shooed him out of my domain. Then I heard a clunk. Then I heard a holler.

"Hey! Pony! Your toothbrush fell into the sink where I poured the developer. I'm throwing it away. I'm sure you can find another one in the cabinet."

At least he told.