Mommy has been delinquent in writing her blog. AGAIN. But don’t worry, America. The Emma is here to update you. And WOAH, NELLY do I have an update.
Jacob says we’re getting a horse. No seriously. A REAL horse. He told, Mommy.
Jacob: Daddy said we could get a horse after we learn how to take care of it.
Jacob: It’s true. DADDY. SAID.
Then Mommy muttered something that I didn’t quite hear. Really, Mommy, you should speak up. How else will I absorb the nuances of the English language?
When we got home that day, Daddy was in the kitchen making dinner. Mommy decided to share the exciting news with him. Which made no sense. Because Daddy ALREADY KNEW we were getting the horse. Right? I mean it was practically his idea.
Mommy: So, Jacob tells me we’re getting a horse?
Mommy didn’t say it right. When JACOB said it, he sounded all breathless and excited. When MOMMY said it, she did not. Hmm. Maybe Mommy is also terrified of all creatures bigger than caterpillars. Don’t worry, Mommy. I TOTALLY get you. Moving things that you cannot crush in the palm of your hand ARE SCARY. The Emma understands.
Mommy: Jacob said that you told him we could get a horse as soon as we learn how to take care of it.
Here’s the really funny thing about all this: Daddy is tooooootally allergic to horses.
Daddy: I did NOT say that.
Mommy: Well what DID you say?
Daddy: Jacob asked if we could get a horse. And I said that horses were a lot of work and we didn’t know how to take care of a horse. And we would have to read about it. And we couldn’t get one if we didn’t know how to take care of one.
Mommy: Yes. And for SOME STRANGE REASON this left Jacob with the impression that we are getting a horse.
Jacob: See, Mommy. I. TOLD. YOU.
People, I’m going to be totally honest with you. I cannot. No, I WILL NOT live in the same house with a horse. I’m still recovering from my harrowing experience with that mad pack of Pygmy goats last month. As I’m SURE you realize, a horse is about as big as FIVE PYGMY GOATS. And, here’s something that I learned about horses on a recent trip to Old Sturbridge Village (where there are a lot of them walking around): Not. A. Damn. One. Is. Potty. Trained. HEY! Stop giggling. And pointing. (Rude, people, just rude.) At least SOME OF US have the decency to wear diapers.
Horses do not.
It’s either me or the horsey, Daddy. ME. OR. THE. HORSE.