Wednesday, March 11, 2015

He Can’t Drive A Car, But He Can Tell Me How To Pay The Bills

Yesterday The Pony got a letter from the local junior college out of EmBee. EmBee had a case of lockjaw last week, as you remember. Farmer H, Mailbox Medicine Man, fixed her right up with his trusty pliers that he drives around with. Don’t ever confuse him with a people dentist.

“Oh, it’s from the college.”

“You can open it. It’s probably your tuition bill. They send them out really late.”

“I can open it anyway. I says to ME, not the THE PARENTS OF.”

“Go ahead. It’s the bill, isn’t it?”


“Well, since it says to YOU, you are welcome to pay it.”

“That’s okay. I’ll let you do that.”

This morning I wrote out the check and got the thing ready to mail, but I didn’t seal the envelope, because I wanted to get a copy. For next year’s tax purposes. This morning I told him, “I got your tuition check ready to send.”

“Oh. I was going to talk to you about that. Did you get that flap off the top? It said to send that with the check. And did you make sure to put my name on the check? And my ID number?”

“Yes. I have done this many times for Genius, and for you just last semester. I know how to pay a bill.”

“Okay. I just wanted to make sure you did it right.”

That Pony. So schooled in the ways of the world. Always looking out for me.


Sioux said...

How did you survive before The Pony came along? How marvelous that he is around, dispensing advice and giving instructions...

What will he help you with next?

Hillbilly Mom said...

I was able to find a sheep carcass and crawl inside to ward off the chill of the Scottish moors. Plus it had a tasty eyeball that I boiled in a hot spring while skewered on the little plastic thingy of my shoelace. Bear Grylls taught me how. Now he's off the air, and I rely on The Pony.

Not sure what he'll help me with next, but he took a picture of my gnarled old-lady hand yesterday and had to scrap it because it showed his bare feet in his old ratty Adidas slides at the bottom of the photo.