Damien Returns

I thought we could be friends. Sure, I was a little intimidated by his size and his stern look at first, but my mother always said not to judge a book by its cover and I was trying hard not to. But then, during our very first meeting, he stole from me. A plastic baggy filled with goldfish crackers and a five dollar bill were carefully removed from my pocket.

I told him no and forgave him. We all make mistakes. We all need people in our lives that teach us right from wrong. And he’s only 9, after all.

But then, during or second meeting, he pinched my butt. With his teeth. It left a mark the size of a plumb, and I realized we wouldn’t be friends.

My nemesis, Tator Tot

Don’t let the name fool you. This horse has it out for me. He gives me the side eye every time I come close and bites me when I try to be nice. Then when my husband joins the saddling party because I’m 30 weeks pregnant with twins and couldn’t possibly lift a saddle, Lil’ Tot dials up the cute and Hubs doesn’t believe me when I say this creature is not a horse, but the Antichrist. He reminds me of Damien, mowing down his mother with the Tricycle of Death. Tater Tot is planning something similar. I just know it.

Let’s hope that Cole is assigned a different horse for his next riding lesson.

And that they don’t make tricycles in Tater Tot’s size.

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