Oklahoma Has No Idea!

Today The Pony ran errands with me.

We had to put insurance on his new used car, and make a deposit in his college account at the credit union, and put gas in T-Hoe, and gather provisions at The Devil's Playground, and pay tax and license fees for his new used car, and pick up a 44 oz Diet Coke for ME!

The Pony also had to call the car dealer to see if there was a second key, which there is not, but they'll make him one when their key guy comes on Monday morning after the holiday.

As part of the graduated, more mature Pony expectations I have set before he drives his new used car off into the sunset...I told him to sit up front in T-Hoe's shotgun seat. That put him beside me, you know. At my right elbow, only a console with a coin cup in between us. He had ridden there yesterday as well, when I had commanded him upon leaving the Mansion to meet Farmer H at the car dealer with The Pony's little truck to trade in:

"Clip those fingernails! I am not taking you into a car dealership with those talons!"

So, typical Pony, he had brought the clippers and did so on the way, with my strict instructions to throw the offending nails out the window, and to make sure they did not blow back in. Also in typical Pony fashion, he left the clippers in T-Hoe when we returned. Although he WAS driving his own new used car home, so might have honestly forgotten about them.

On the way to town this morning at 8:30, I spied The Pony's toenails. That's what he gets for wearing his Adidas slides instead of regular socks and shoes.

"Don't tell me you haven't trimmed your TOENAILS yet either!"

"There's nothing wrong with them."

"I can't believe you said that. LOOK at them! How are you ever going to survive on your own at college? You will be walking down the aisle at graduation in four years, wearing your cap and gown and special shoes that let your foot-long ski-like toenails stick out! You are NOT going in The Devil's Playground with your feet looking like that!"

"Okay. I'll clip them. But they're toenails. They'll fall on the floor mat."

"NO THEY WON'T! You know I can't stand feet. You find a way to get rid of them!"

"I'll just put them on the console."

"NO YOU WON'T! I can't stand it! I'm going to be sick!"

"Oh, mother dearest. They're ONLY toenails."

"That's the problem!"

"I'll do it while you're in the insurance office."

"Okay. Get rid of them I don't want them in the car."

We stopped by McDonald's to pick up a sausage biscuit for The Pony. Then on to the insurance office.

"Oh. You're not done eating yet. Remember to call about your key. And get rid of those toenails."

When I came out, The Pony was still on the phone with the car dealer.

"Did you clip your toenails?"

"Noooo. I was on the phone the whole time. I can do it while you're in the credit union."

So, next stop, I went in to deposit the money. When I came out, The Pony tried to shove his foot in my face.

"STOP! I hate feet!"

"I'm just showing you, Mother, that I clipped my toenails."

I backed out and started for the five-way stop. Made my turn. Twice. Got up some speed heading for the gas station.

"Where are they?"

"Here. I'll throw them out like my fingernails."

The Pony put his window down. Air swirled at my lovely lady mullet.

"NO! Don't throw them out! NO! If I get one of those blown in my mouth from the wind, there's going to be trouble!"

"Ha ha! I don't have them in my hand. I put them in my McDonald's sack!"

"Make sure you throw it away when we get gas! I don't want them riding with us."

"Oh, Mother! They're ALWAYS with us!"

After we exited The Devil's Playground, The Pony stowed the groceries in T-Hoe's rear, and I got behind the wheel and wrote the amount in the checkbook. The Pony clambered into the back seat behind me. It wasn't worth fighting over. We only had two stops left. As I pulled out of The Devil's lot and onto the road, a giant boy-hoof appeared on the console. It reached up and stroked my arm with its sole.

"ACK! Get that FOOT off of me!"

"I'm just showing you my shorn toenails, Mother Dear."

That boy really knows how to push my buttons.