Everyone thinks you’re adorable until you
suddenly spit up on their cashmere sweater.
Deep within your psyche lies the soul of
an artist. Thus, you feel compelled to draw
masterpieces on the livingroom wall.
Why did you eat paste?
No, you cannot drive Dad’s Porsche.
Now you’ll aquire the education and skills that
will (hopefully) get you a decent job so you
can afford to continue riding.
Yikes! The boss’s wife is scary!
After years of overtime and some orchestrated
groveling, you get a promotion at work. You
even get a nameplate for your desk. With
this new sense of empowerment, you feel it’s
finally safe to wear your boots and breeches
on casual Fridays.
Your doctor says your creaky joints are due
to age-related arthritis. He suggests hip
replacement surgery. That very same week
you receive your AARP card in the mail.
Collect model horses.
Weekly lunches with your posse of riding
buddies from “back in the day.” When not
riding, live in lounge pants and slippers.