And Now, A Word From Our Equine

The Pony appears to be having a blast at Missouri Scholars Academy. I arrive at this conclusion not by first-hand observation, but by second-hand reporting by The Pony. He's no Jimmy Olsen, that Pony.

Parents are not allowed to contact their spawn. The spawn may, if so inclined, contact the parents by cell phone during their down time each night. With evening activities planned, and late-night snacks, and shower time for those who value p.m. cleanliness, and lights out at 11:30...that leaves about five minutes of time for The Pony to phone home. The Pony is no fan of the telephone. He thinks of it as a mini game-player. Talking on it is just a waste of battery.

Sunday night, The Pony called me at 10:55. He had not yet taken his shower, which is of the 30+ minute duration here at home. He relayed that his feet were sore from the get-to-know-everyone activity they had that evening, and that his late-night snack was a cookie, and that he was having a good time.

Monday night, there was no call. The next morning at 7:50, I received a text. "Sorry I didn't call. I fell asleep early."

Tuesday night, The Pony called at 11:10. He had been eating pizza for every meal, with the exception of eggs and biscuits at breakfast. He was thrilled that his writing class let the Scholars sit outside for one hour of the three, just to think and write. He declined his late-night snack and ate a pack of Soft Batch cookies that he had taken with him. Oh, he liked the snack, but didn't feel like it that night: watermelon.

Wednesday night, The Pony called at 11:23. During our short time in communicado, he revealed that he had NOT been having pizza for every meal, as he had grown tired of it, and was now eating a beef and cheese sandwich for lunch and supper. Also, he had consumed a few salads. But the highlight of Wednesday was the evening activity: swimming! Yes, they had a lazy river. And a whirlpool! I'm thinking it's not like a sleazy '70s kind of swinger hot tub whirlpool, but the kind like they have at a local civic center, where kids are actually in a whirlpool that can suck them down or pull their shorts right off. I asked if he lost his swimsuit, and he declared, "NO!" The Pony sometimes takes things too literally. I asked about his (new) glasses during swim time. The Pony replied that he had taken them off, but since he couldn't see, he put the back on. Thank the Gummi Mary, they were not a victim of the whirlpool. I can imagine The Pony sailing down the lazy river on an inner tube, while wearing his spectacles.

I would have found out more about the late-night snack, and his minor class, but there was a sudden static noise, and no more Pony. I thought at first my battery was low, because I had not put the phone back on the charger after my nightly confab with my best ol' ex-teaching buddy Mabel. But I got a dial tone, and the sound of me dialing The Pony's number, but no Pony. His dorm might have a cell phone jammer. It WAS almost time for lights out. This morning I found a text from last night that said, "Sorry. The phone cut out." Or so he says. Let's hope he did not have his roommate making static noises to end our conversation.

I need to have a list of questions ready for his interrogation tonight. Assuming he calls, of course.