back when I was 6...7, I was all about My Little Pony. We actually had horses and a REAL pony, which most kids dream of, but that wasn't good enough for me. Who wants a real live pony you can ride, when you can play with plastic ponies. Who you calling ungrateful? Me? Okay, I'll take it.
I had a few ponies, with super fabulous names like Blossom, Moondancer, Starshine. They had their own hairbrushes, and I would brush their hair all the time- unlike mine. Mine was a hot mess, but that's another WTF for another Wednesday. I would play outside with them, inside, wherever. But since I was a smart cookie, I had dreams. Dreams of a stable. Our REAL pony had a stable, which means that my little ponies needed a stable. Right?
So I asked for this for Christmas
Christmas morning, I waited for the go ahead. My parents were THOSE parents, with the whole, you had to wake them up, they would make coffee, start a fire, count specks in the concrete, any time wasting activity just to watch us squirm, I swear. When we were all down stairs, I saw it.
My beloved stable, in all it's plastic glory. It wasn't wrapped up, wasn't in a box, it was all set up, BEGGING me to play with it, name it, and raise it. It was sitting on an end table, so I just crouched down and opened it up......
HORSE POOP IN MY BRAND NEW STABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I think my jaw fell open, my body turned to stone, my hair fell out and I didn't move.
Apple Jack was eating at the little trough, with a pile of horsey doo doo at her tail end.
The sound of
pure evil laughter erupted behind me. Had I been kidnapped? ALL the adults around me, the parents, the aunts, the uncles, grandma, EVEN GRANDMA was laughing. Not just "hee hee hoo hoo" laughing, but peemypantsandrollaroundintit laughing.
WTF! They (meaning one of the sick, twisted people) had taken rabbit food, the little turd like alfalfa pellets, , and had put it in a nice little pile behind my pony. In my stable.
I know Santa wouldn't ever dream of such a cruel thing, so I was pissed about them touching my gift. And about 10 more shades of pissed when one of them freaks yelled "Looks like your ponies made a mess. Guess you need to clean it up."
Poo, especially my little pony poo is not funny. Clearly I am scarred.