Saturday, 3 April 2010

Wanted: Daughter thief


Here it is, this thieving creature, creeping to us in the night and stealing away my daughter child.


See! Another! Be vigilant, for they are everywhere.

Do not let those big, soulful, eyelashed eyes seduce you. It is all calculated horse intelligence to lull you and make you sigh aaahhh ahhhh aahhh like a twerp and yearn to stroke fetlocks and put glitter in manes. No! Desist! You should know that they are foulsmelling gutterliving sugarlump addicts. And they will steal your daughter if you allow her near them. Keep the daughter child away! Away!

Look! Now we see the evil appear! Look at those crazed staring eyes! That truly awful nose violating my phone camera, seeking out sugarlumps and daughters! Revealing themselves as the cruel and calculating child snatchers they really are, plotting and scheming for access to more daughters! More sugarlumps!


Do not be taken in! Pay attention to your daughters! Learn from my sad and bitter experience. Equine worship is begun in so many innocent ways, and soon it becomes all enveloping and all pervasive. It requires mama to dig her hands deep into her shrivelled bank account and pull out the last dredges of last month's pay to stump up for yet another residential week down the stables.

Poor, broken hearted mother! It is a bewilderment to see the Tiger daughter seduced by these great snorty hairy stamping creatures.

Yet they laugh at me to know that another year has passed and the Tiger daughter's equine love is still strong!

I know the time has gone, and with it, her heart from me to them. Tiger stares from her window and sighs, tenderly, knowing that in only a few hours she gets hold of horse. She stares at me, with urgent eyes, and I know that I must provide her with bigger leggings and longer jodhpurs. She cries that the others cannot fit. Her feet are poking out the bottom, dangling there, and reminding me that I may have put this moment off, but I can put it off no longer. The feet must fit into the jodhpurs and the jodhpurs must have the horse. And then these shameless animals lead my daughter away, causing her to pack her new jodhpurs and leave us for a whole week!

When will it ever end? This is the second year of two long years that Tiger daughter has taken herself off to the stables. For this Easter week, they provide a bed, dinner, and other horse-crazed daughters. And horses! Ever so many! All at once! And worse, POTS OF GLITTER.

Yet I can do no other, but drive her down there, and wave goodbye. She loves them. I do not know why. I wipe a tear from my eye. The daughter thieves scare me half to death with their big teeth and rolling eyes. To me, they are the stuff of nightmares. In my unconscious, they trample over me, and squash me face down to the mud. And yet now I hand her over to their care.

They gallop through her dreams. Under her guiding hand, only hers, she jumps and leaps and runs with them.

Daughter thieves, every one.


It mocks me! See how it mocks me!
The devil horse whinnies Ha Ha! You lose, Mama Grit! You are not as lovely as a horse!

11 comments:

Firebird said...

So on balance maybe I should foget about stumping up for riding lessons then?

Sam said...

Horses (lots) and pots of glitter? I'm so sorry Grit, there is obviously no hope. ;-)

Jonathan said...

Hatter mad! I love your blog :)

Mud in the City said...

I was stolen a long time ago. A life long affliction!

Rachel M. said...

Hope there are less spiders in the bathroom this year!

Lisa said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Lisa said...

I was stolen away too at the same age. My 'time' was to muck out daily in freezing cold weather, walk to the stables, or if lucky get a lift (then vacuum the car out) and spent all my hard earned pocket money on buckets and headcollars. I had a wheelbarrow for my 15 birthday and was ecstatic.

My thief died in September.

He escaped death as a foal from the dreaded meat market and surpassed his life expectancy by a whole 12 years to reach 17 with a very poorly heart.

He galloped off with my time, and stole my heart forever. He broke it when he went...but I'd give anything to put a new wheelbarrow on my birthday list, shovel some shit and listen for him neighing at me in the morning. They get ya like that :)

Hope Tiger has the most magical snufflenuzzling, haybreath, glitterhoof time xxx

sharon said...

Could be worse, she could have a penchant for white elephants. Actually any colour elephants! Although those pretty painted Indian ones do have a kind of fascination . . .

Potty Mummy said...

Hang on - they let you put glitter - on horses? Do they let grown-ups onto this course?

Grit said...

if it is any help firebird, we actually got a cheap home educating deal on the horse riding - and then had to give it up because Tiger and co did not like the stables. no, they preferred the EXPENSIVE ones instead. great.

glitter, sam, and horse combs and hoof varnish, probably.

thank you jonathan!

mud, does it really take a lifetime?

hi rachel! I have quietly double checked for spiders. i suppose if one creeps in, the worst Tiger will do is not wash. in which case, i recover a stinky daughter. (actually, this is starting to sound like the freedom to slob around the house that i should rightly have. maybe i could introduce a few spiders into my own bathroom and have the perfect excuse.)

lisa, there is clearly horselove; i know nothing of it, but i can see it, and respect it. we cannot possibly keep a horse. don't even make me wonder if it is possible. no. not thinking about it at all.

sharon, how did you know? tiger also collects ornamental elephants and aspires to see temples elephants in south india. and you thought you were being obtuse. we already got in before you.

pm! stop it with the horselust! put glitter on a snow trike and be happy!

mamacrow said...

oh Lisa. HUG HUGS

I was stolen away long long ago... I saw some pictures of horses in a scrap book when I was about 4 and that was it. I schemed and plotted untill I persuaded my totally unhorse connected parents to let me have riding lessons.

somedays I dream of the unmistakable smell.. of dog hair and straw and fresh dropings and wax jackets and oh, best of all, HORSE.

I don't think you ever truly recover...