Down at the Snapper Martilla and I were reminiscing over our childhoods. She dredged up a memory that reminded me of just how much children have to go through to reach adulthood—a reverse metamorphosis whereby they commonly lose their wings to emerge as something a great deal less lovely.

Well, that's one way of looking at it. The facts of the story invite a host of reactions.

Martilla was turning 7 and for her birthday she wanted a horse. She lived out in the country where other kids had horses, so it wasn't an unreasonable expectation, and besides, nobody told her she couldn't have one.

On her birthday she came home from school excited that she would find a horse. Her dad led her out to a section of the fence where a bridle had been tied. "Look," he said, "I got you a horse, but he's run away." Then he pointed to a cow patty about 5 feet away. "See, he left you a present."

Though Martilla didn't get her horse, she did get a pair of cowboy boots of which she was very proud, and she wore them to school the next day.

Previous post
Snatches from the Pink Snapper – 7 (6/24/08)

Tags: Southern living childhood