I don’t know what made me do it, but I’m a Christian, so I’m going to go with the Devil.
The Devil made me do it; that’s always a good excuse.
It’s just THE TEMPTATION, you guys. THE TEMPTATION OVERWHELMED ME.
I’ve heard it said God never gives us more than we can handle, but a) that’s a crap theological statement any way you slice it, and, b) more importantly, I’ll bet God wouldn’t say stuff like that if God’s husband went away for a week, took most of the children, and left her with way, WAY too much time on her hands. Time to think about buying a miniature horse, for example. And, yes, obviously time to reject buying a miniature horse because DUH. But also time to think about convincing her husband she’d bought a miniature horse anyway, because bwahahahaha; SATAN.
Idle hands are the devil’s tools. <– In the Bible, man. TRUE TRUTH.
MORE TEMPTATION THAN I COULD HANDLE, I tell you. More temptation than any woman should try to endure.
It all started innocently enough.
I just mentioned, via text, to my husband who was far, far away, that we might be able to finagle a way to buy Aden, our middle kid who adores equines, a miniature horse.
Now, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean I really wanted to buy a horse, but Greg ignored me, which left me no choice at all but to keep texting him.
Still NOTHING from Greg, so I started pinging him with the “AREN’T YOU LISTENING?” texts and the “HELLO! HellLLLOOOOOO!” texts, and then he was a poophead…
…which made me realize I had to up my game.
I set to work.
I did my research.
I tattled on Greg to our teenager, Abby, who was home with me, and I led her astray.
“Abby,” I said, “Dad’s ignoring me. It’s like he really, truly believes I wouldn’t buy a horse without consulting him.”
“That’s probably because you wouldn’t buy a horse without consulting him,” she said, because she’s a jerk like her father.
“THAT IS NO EXCUSE,” I said. “It is now our job to convince him that I WOULD, TOO, impulsively buy a horse.”
“I don’t think that’s the best idea you’ve ever had,” said Abby.
And I said, “Is, too.”
And she said, “Is not.”
And I said, “THE BIBLE SAYS TO HONOR YOUR MOTHER, SO YOU HAVE TO DO WHAT I SAY OR JESUS WON’T LOVE YOU ANYMORE.”
And she said, “I’m pretty sure the Bible doesn’t say that.”
And I said, “Oh yeah? Prove it.”
And she said, “It’ll take less time if I just do what you want, won’t it?”
And I said, “Yep.”
And she said, “Fine,” which is the same as Honoring Your Mother, I think, because HOORAY! I WIN!
Thus began Abby’s text campaign to her father, which went like this:
You know, there are times while you’re raising kids and you wonder if they’ll ever accept your way of life and your values and then they do stuff like this and you realize it’s all going to be OK. It’s all going to work out. Raise them up in the way they should go, and when they are old they will not depart from it.
Abby’s part concluded, I continued my quest.
As you can see, Greg remained unconvinced after this barrage of texts.
Which is why it’s a good thing I have friends in my corner.
Friends who have friends.
Friends who have friends who have miniature horses.
Friends who have friends who have miniature horses they will bring to my home and pretend to sell to me.
So let it be written, so let it be done.
And it was.
Oregon Dream Ponies, whom I love and with whom I’m well pleased, showed up at our house and pretended to sell me a horse. In front of Greg. As a special “surprise” to him.
In conclusion, being married to me is THE BEST.
P.S. Greg didn’t get to keep the pony, but he did get a rad Oregon Dream Ponies t-shirt.
P.P.S. No children or ponies were harmed in the making of this practical joke. The kids were all in on in and thought it was HILARIOUS. Actually, I’m not sure the pony was in on the joke, so her feelings were probably hurt when she didn’t get to stay with us. AMENDMENT: No children or ponies were physically harmed in the making of this practical joke. Also, new motto for this site = Raising children and ponies to be self-sufficient enough to someday pay for their own counseling.
P.P.P.S. This post isn’t sponsored by Oregon Dream Ponies, and blah blah blah. I don’t do sponsored posts here. Kim at ODP is just really cool people willing to haul a tiny pony to a crazy woman’s house to help her torture her husband. Now, if that’s not True Community, I don’t know what is.
P.P.P.P.S. I’m thinking “In conclusion, being married to me is THE BEST” should be a new, regular series around here. The other time that was my conclusion was the day I pooped my closet. That Greg’s a lucky guy.