Let’s
talk about dreamcrushers. Though Val herself has been accused of being such a
villian, she prefers to think of herself as a realist. For example, one of my
classes inquired, “What does The Pony want to do when he grows up, Mrs.
Thevictorian?”
“Well,
he wants to be a writer. But his dad and I have told him that he needs to have
a steady income with benefits, and he can write in his spare time, and if he
starts making money at it, he can quit his day job. We’ve been discussing the
field of chemical engineering. Chemistry is a subject he finds easy.”
“Oh.
So you’re a dreamcrusher.”
No.
Realist. If I was a dreamcrusher, I would tell him, “You can’t write. You might
as well give that up right now. You’ll never be a famous author. You’ll never
sell any books. Nobody wants to read anything you write.” THAT is a
dreamcrusher.
Then
there are the joysuckers. They appear after the fact. Those people who won’t
let you experience one moment of joy. They must bring you down, right in the
middle of a celebration.
Yesterday morning, I showed a few people at school
pictures of my newest pet. This little guy:
Yes.
He’s cute as a bug’s ear. Hick traded four goats for him. Most people oohed and
aahed over his cuteness. Except one. Who didn’t even see the picture from my
own hand, but had it carried on my cell phone to her classroom, by a colleague
who gushed, “Oh! We’ve GOT to show it to her.”
So…I
was showing another associate that minipony, and Joysucker walked past us and
said, “But what are you going to DO with him?” Not in a joking manner. With a
kind of a scowl. Like she is the Minipony Police.
Hmpf!
I have as much right to a pet minipony as any other person on earth. More,
maybe, because I have a place to keep him. What did she THINK I was going to do
with him?
Did
she think, perhaps, that I might…
Travel the county fair circuit and charge people to ride him?
Send delicious cuts of him to France?
Put the cart before him?
Use his tiny teacup hooves to make a glue stick?
No. I
will love him and pet him and brush his lovely mane and maybe even his long
flowing tail if he’s not quick with his hooves, and keep him in a four-acre pen with goat
buddies and let him out to graze on a rope in the front field.
What
would she SUGGEST I do with him?
Some
people are just joysuckers. Plain and simple. She made me feel almost ashamed
to have a minipony. Apologetic.
I didn't ask for a minipony. Fate in the form of my husband Hick brought me one. And I shall enjoy him to the hilt.
I always have a clever retort to shut up the joy-suckers, "Fuck you!"
ReplyDeleteWell I think it.
I'm sure the Joysucker even occasionally has a balloon...that you could burst.
ReplyDeleteWhat a cute little guy. I can easily understand why you'd want him.
ReplyDeleteI swear, one time we were in the park and a car pulled in towing a little cart. A woman unhitched it, then opened the back car door and let a mini pony out. She hitched him up and he pulled the heifer around the parking lot. Then she shoved him back in the back seat. Hubby and I sat speechless watching and after she left, looked at each other and said, "Did that really happen? A horse in a car?" You will have fun with your new addition.
ReplyDeleteYour Joysucker probably hates kids too. After all, what to you DO with them. Let's not even list the problems they cause. Some things are done just for love and joy and fun.
ReplyDeleteHe's adorable. I can't wait to know what you name him.
ReplyDeletejoeh,
ReplyDeleteYou're a feisty one. I admire your spirit.
*****
Sioux,
I cannot. I have nary a balloon-poking bone in my body. But I could talk about that balloon behind its back, or ridicule it on my blog.
*****
Stephen,
And to think, I didn't even KNOW I wanted him until Hick brought him home. It's not like I gave him an auction-buying list with "minipony" starred for top priority.
*****
Linda,
I doubt I will be taking my minipony out for a spin. So if you see this act again, it's not me.
*****
Leenie,
It was like she thought she was the only one qualified to own a minipony. Maybe she rents them out with a cart so women can take them to a parking lot and go for a spin. And maybe she has a bunch of kids to shine the carts and curry the miniponies. She might be the Fagin of the minipony world.
*****
Lynn,
I can't wait to see what we name him, either. I will let The Pony name the pony.
Ahhhhh, the joysuckers of the world. I like what joeh has to say. I would probably have told her I was going to host a huge dinner and he would be the entrée ........ just to see what she had to say about that. I usually go with heavy sarcasm.
ReplyDeleteKathy,
ReplyDeleteYeah. It's all fun and games, it's all joysucking and sarcasm...until my face is plastered across the mainstream media for horse-eating.
I think I'd be taking a lot of pictures to show off to all and sundry, and Ms. JS. "Look at his shiny coat. He's best friends with Juno now. He waits at the gate to welcome me home. Just look at this picture...."
ReplyDeleteOr as my mother said, Kill them with kindness.
Joanne,
ReplyDeleteWell, if you think I can beat the murder rap...I can brush him until he shines. Maybe festoon his mane with ribbons. Manly, of course. Like a camouflage pattern ribbon. And perhaps I can find a tiny straw hat with ear holes cut out, like one might find on an old plow mule. Yes. That's a scathingly brilliant idea. Joysucker shall rue the day she asked what I was going to do with my minipony.