I told her "No! Absolutely not. Thank you for the offer but, no. That thing is dangerous. Springs to pinch fingers, no handle to hold on to and it's been outside for how long now?" I thought she had got the picture, that I had made myself clear, seems I was mistaken.
The day had started out fine, Saturday ritual of fill up the gas tank, take the car through the car wash, and grocery shop for the upcoming week. Somehow things started to go downhill in the dairy section of the store. My cell phone rings, it shows someone is calling from the house. All kids are with me, maybe Hubby came home early from work.
"Hello, Dortha this is Rose." It's is my Mom's neighbor in my house.
"Er...Hi Rose, whats going on?"
"Your Mother wants to know where you are."
"She wants to know where you are grocery shopping."
"How long will you be?"
"Until I finish."
"About an hour?"
"We're going yard saleing for a bit and we'll be back." My Mom yells in the background.
I am wandering through the aisles now not sure of what I have put in the cart and what I've passed that I meant to pick up. Why the heck were they in my house with no one there? How did they get in my house? Who does that?
When the girls come to me with shirts they just have to have, I throw them in the cart and decide we need to go. I can't think properly enough to shop just now. When we pull in the drive I see the bleeping thing I told her no about. Maybe he wont notice it, maybe we can swing it around back and get rid of it later, but no he squeaks "HORSE!"
The teens start to carry in the shopping while I try to restrain Connor. He is so happy to see this huge hobby horse. I am less than pleased, it is nasty, dirty beyond belief. I am happy to see the springs have protective covering but I am unsure whether the green stuff on it would be classified as mold, mildew, fungus or algae. The front and back of the frame has things that look like paint roller covers, I guess to stop from scraping the floor when pushed here and there. I think they used to be grey maybe white, now they are camouflage.
He starts to tug and pull on it trying to get it closer and closer to the door. I give in. I lower one half of my back seat and throw the nasty hobby horse in and put Connor in his car seat. We are off for a second visit to the car wash.
He sits in the back of the hatchback while I presoak, wash, and scrub. As I start to rinse and check it over for any missed spots of nastiness he climbs out of the back and drives his new toy motorcycle and helicopter (more toys that were left inside from Grandma) through the bubbles on the concrete. Surprisingly it cleans up well and Connor is eager to get back in the car with his horse.
Once back home he helps pull it out of the car and pulls and pushes it all the way to the front step. I help him get it up the step but the rest is all him.
Horse clean and safe? Check (I think)
Heavy Work? Check