Hello horse people. Guess what?
I said guess what?
“What?” (That’s you btw).
The nag is back in my garden!
“No way! But I thought it’d been moved to a new hotel only the other week?”
I know, right? Me too!
But no, it’s back again and as unwelcome as ever, like a bad case of the clap. Is it the third time this year or the fourth? I’d genuinely have to read through my own whingey posts to count up the total, but the gist of it is that it’s currently dividing its time between churning up my beautiful garden and chilling out in the old stable at the end of it.
I wasn’t really asked about any of this of course. More ‘informed’. Afterwards. I think I’m almost beyond caring, to be honest, I’ve lost the will. I’m a beaten man.
In other news, CC2 has been fitted with braces recently — a pair of retainers, top and bottom. These were apparently fantastically expensive for some reason, only mildly offset by the hilarious speech impediment it gives her. She sounds like Gollum with an overproductive salivary gland.
“We learnt about kssJuliussssss kssssssCaesar in khhhhistory today, khssssssssss”. About what? “KsssssCaesar, khsssssss.” Come again? “KsssssCaesar! Khsssss” One more time? Etc. Never gets boring. Are we bad parents? Whatever. Oh, and in case you don’t have be-braced children of your own, the sound at the end of each sentence is the sucking back up of all the excess spit that’s somehow pooled in her mouth while trying to talk. Parenthood is a magical thing.
Anyway, she has to wear these for almost all of the day, just taking them out for meals and when she needs to be understood clearly. She has a case for them of course, though they’re usually to be found on the dining table.
Lovely though she is, she’s very clumsy and forgetful and it’s best if they don’t leave her sight or else they’ll get lost. The three of us spent a very pleasant afternoon a few weeks ago, retracing our steps through town to find the phone she lost on a shopping trip the previous day. It DEFINITELY WASN’T IN RIVER ISLAND, I DIDN’T EVEN TAKE IT OUT OF MY POCKET THERE! It was in River Island.
Now that the nag is staying with us again, and given that she’s a hopeless nag addict, CC2 has taken to doing her homework in the stable. Sat on the floor, in the wood shavings, books balanced on her crossed legs while the horse helps her with her geography, or any necessary dribble. You probably think that that’s ever so sweet; I think it’s a little bit disgusting, sat in the pissy bedding, but there we go. We’re not ever going to see eye to eye about these things.
That said, if she ever becomes the new Charlotte of the Garden as she wants to be, and has a movie made about her rise to Olympic glory, it’ll definitely be a scene early on in the film. Probably the bit where the star reveals her innermost feelings to the audience by talking to herself or a nearby animal, usually after the big plot setback. “We’ll never make the Olympics now Fireflash, not now that we’ve both broken all of our legs and the mill’s closed down leaving dad redundant.”
I don’t work in a mill by the way, but office work isn’t very Hollywood plot. You remember Billy Elliot? Coal miner’s son from Up North, had to take up ballet in secret? He was actually brought up in a lovely big house in Somerset and his parents were both ballet-loving mid-ranking executives in a local fax machine manufacturers. Not sexy. Artistic license is used liberally in these films.
Anyway, if you don’t know what’s coming next then you must be new around here. I’ve pretty much laid out the two threads to this post nice and clearly for you and they’re about to collide. That’s right, CC2 lost her retainers. Last seen in the stable.
This, as ever, raises several questions. First and foremost, why the fuck were they not in her mouth at the time? Why did she feel the need to take them out in a stable, of all places?
This had an answer that raises more questions in itself. “I was sharing a bag of Hula Hoops with the pony.”
Of course you were. You were sharing a bag of delicious hoop-shaped savoury snacks with a horse. While sat on the pissy floor doing your homework. By the light of her phone, as it turns out. Though I should at least be grateful that she knew where that was. It was also just before dinner, but that should be a given.
Do horses eat Hula Hoops? Clearly they do, but are they supposed to? From what I can glean, the nag only eats the most expensive, luxury food. Nothing as mundane as ‘some grass’ for her, it’s nothing but steamed fucking hay and bags of stuff called something like ‘Hi-Performance Premium ExpensoFeed’. And Hula Hoops.
It’s like our cats. Mouse head? “Mmmm, yum yum!” Rabbit intestines? “Delicious, thank you!” Slightly less expensive-than-usual cat biscuits? “Don’t fuck with me, human. Get your lousy hand back in your pocket or I’ll shit in the bath again.”
The next question related to where she left her retainers while feasting on said salty tubular treats. In the fitted case they came with presumably, stuffed for safety into a pocket? No. On the floor. Of course they were. On the floor, with the piss.
This lead to CC1 spending a couple of hours today sifting through the entire contents of the stable by hand, like a desperate lottery winner down at the town dump after accidentally binning a winning ticket.
She did turn up one of the retainers. Not the full pair, but just the one. This meant that either her sifting skills weren’t all that or else the nag will get its teeth straightened over the next year.
I’m assuming she checked the horse for an amusing speech impediment and plumped for the first option, because she’s now had to borrow a metal detector to scan the stable. You couldn’t write this shit, you really couldn’t.
I’ve since learnt that she’s successfully detected said retainer and we now have a matching pair again. I learnt this the way I learn everything about the nag and family of course, on Facebook. If it wasn’t for Mr Zuckerberg we’d probably have to speak to each other, *shudder*.
So everything is back where it should be, except the fucking horse of course which is still in my garden. The retainers are in a glass of boiling water being thoroughly sterilised, CC2 is in the doghouse and the metal detector is back with whoever the fuck lent it to CC1. Who has a metal detector anyway? Presumably someone who’d like to find some Roman gold rather than some manky plastic and wire, covered in wood shavings stuck on with spittle and horse piss, but them’s the breaks.
I’m not entirely sure whether this episode will make the inspirational nags-to-riches movie of CC2’s life completely intact. The endearing scene of little girl and pony spending time together doing homework might be sullied a bit by the sight of the mother subsequently sifting through the pissy bedding looking for a lost retainer.
Also the movie would probably be spoilt by not being able to understand a word the girl says. “Yessssch, kkdreshage practishh later, ksssssssss.” No. Better with the artistic license I think. Lose the braces, keep the mill closing.