Mother’s Milk

Ryder and I went to Irvine Regional Park this week to ride the train and have a picnic with some friends. Unbeknown to me, they also have pony rides. Now, we go to the Santa Ana Zoo about once a week, where they have a very nice Endangered Species Carousel. Of which Ryder wants no part of. Unless we are in the bird’s nest, which spins while the carousel is spinning. Which, no.

So, knowing his history with anything wearing a saddle, I was very surprised when he appeared to want to ride the pony. When I bought his ticket, I made sure that I could get my $4 back, should my fickle kid decide that he wasn’t game. So you can imagine my surprise when he not only gladly hopped into the saddle, but was talking to and petting the horse as well!

The (stable?) girl led the pony out the gate and we were off to walk our three laps! There were three other parents out there with their kids on ponies. All the kids were looking for butterflies and rainbows, talking about the trees, admiring the ponies and horses. And my kid? My kid was obsessed with the poo-poo. I mean OBSESSED. As in yelling out to me (though I was right next to him), pointing at the ground: “Moooooommyyyyyy! Hoo-hoo (horsie) poo-poo!! Hoo-hoo poo-poo! Poo-poo, Mommy!”

I sheepishly grinned at the other parents and wished I wasn’t holding the leash to the pony, so that I didn’t have to claim the kid as mine. Or that a giant sinkhole would appear and swallow me. Whichever. Does this mean he’s closer to being potty trained?