Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
Our daughter, our youngest child, had three older brothers and a father who loved to torment her. Silly things, like telling her that deer tracks in the woods were actually buffalo. She was only six when they told her that. She believed them.
There were other things, and gradually she grew to look at all of them with a very skeptical eye. I don’t blame her. Of course I was never guilty of any of that nonsense.
One day, when she was a very young teen, Terry and I were driving home from somewhere. Ahead of us was a pickup truck, and standing in the front seat beside the driver was a tiny little horse, about the size of a big dog. I couldn’t believe my eyes at first, but when I told Terry what I was seeing, he put the pedal down until we were close enough to be sure. Yup. There it was. A miniature horse. First one I’d ever seen, and you just don’t expect to find them riding along beside the driver of a pickup.
We followed the pickup until it turned off into what was clearly a little horse ranch. Literally, a ranch for little horses. We knew the kids would enjoy seeing the horses.
When we got home, we described what we had seen. Our daughter was unimpressed. She didn’t believe it, and she wasn’t going to fall for another wild story. So we loaded up the whole crew and took them to the ranch, and they were all pretty interested in these little horses. They clearly weren’t just babies. They were adults, cute as can be, and we watched them for quite some time.
Sadly, our daughter still tends not to believe her dad. Funny thing is, she married a guy who tells his kids tall tales, and their little girl just looks at him out of the sides of her eyes, and shakes her head.