Me and the devil they call Horse
I don't know how many times I said no but they just wouldn't listen. So here I am again, and I'm sure this time it will end in my death. I have tempted fate too many times.
Everyone loves horses. They're beautiful creatures that you can actually ride on. What's not to love?
I used to love horses but after I became the target of horse bullying, I no longer do. I don't really hate them, I just think it's best if we don't see each other any more. That's why I said no to the latest attempt of my loving family to force me onto the back of the four-legged devil.
But they insisted. They guilted me with wails of ruined fun if I stayed behind and watched. But I know what they really wanted. They wanted another hilarious story of what happens when mom gets on a horse.
I asked the stable hand to give me the oldest, lamest horse. A horse you would give to a 5-year old. He told me he had just the horse for me. I explained to him that every time I got on a horse, it took off with me. He assured me that this horse wouldn't run for a 10 pound sugar cube. "Okay," I said, wanting to believe him.
Yet here I am again - speeding down the beach, hanging on for dear life, on the horse that doesn't run. My family tells me it's my fault. That I clamp my legs too tightly around the animal, that they can sense my fear. I'm pretty sure everyone can sense my fear when I mount up. This isn't my first rodeo.
If by some miracle I survive, I swear this will be the last time. It's bowling or putt putt golf or I'm staying home.