Wednesday, January 29, 2014

It's All Fun And Games Until Somebody Loses An Eyepiece

We got home late this evening due to The Pony's practice with the Smartypants team. He bore everything inside like a good draft animal while I lagged behind, cuddling with my sweet, sweet Juno. Darn that dastardly Ann. She saw Juno head for me. I thought it was going to be a repeat of yesterday, when Ann body-checked Juno on her good three legs, trying to send her over the abyss of the side porch, and onto the concrete sidewalk three feet below. But no. Today Ann saw Juno nuzzle up under my chin, and she turned tail and ran. Ran in the opposite direction, thus the tail viewing. Oh, she was not afraid of the mother and dog reunion, the love which dares to speak its name. Ann darted into Juno's house. Became a squatter. Left Juno out in the cold, looking in, wondering how it all went so horribly wrong. Ann is kind of smart for a dumb dog. I did not hear a scuffle, so I think Juno joined her in the squatter cottage.

Once I entered the kitchen, I heard The Pony snort, "Look what just happened." He rounded the corner, holding out his glasses. Great. One more thing we need to deal with, repair, and pay for. The right lens was in one hand, the frames in the other. This is a big deal. The Pony absolutely cannot see without his glasses. "Oh, well. I can still see with my left eye." Such a cockeyed optimist, our Pony.

Straight from The Pony's mouth, he had done absolutely nothing except set down his burden, take off his shoes, and catch the lens as it fell. The tiny screw was still in the frame. He put the whole kit 'n' caboodle on the kitchen counter, and went off to seek a small screwdriver. A task that might sound easy enough, for one with acceptable vision. He came up from the basement, and commenced tightening that screw. Farmer H chose that opportune time to enter the Mansion.

Farmer H: "Do you need me to fix it?"

Pony: "No. I'm fixing it."

HM: "You might want to put the lens in before you tighten it too far."

Pony: "It's fine."

HM: "Snap it in."

Pony: "Hmm. Won't go."

HM: "Loosen the screw."

Pony: "I am."

The Pony had to loosen the screw enough that the top part of the frame came loose from the bottom part again. As if no progress had been made at all.

HM: "Now pop it in."

Pony: "I am."

HM: "Let me hold it."

Pony: "I can do it."

Farmer H: "Do you need me to fix it?"

Pony and HM: "NO!"

HM: "Here. I'll hold the two parts of the frame together while you screw it in."

Pony: "Okay."

I swear. Some days that Pony has a little horse-donkey in him. And a lot of his father.


Sioux said...

Yes, all the ass-y characteristics come from the father's genetic contribution.

Hillbilly Mom said...

I was certain you would agree. Anyone could see it. No way would an argumentative, strong-willed child resemble Mrs. Hillbilly Mom.