The Silver Lining of the Raptor-Taloned, Elbow-Jabbing, Virus-Breathing Fart Cloud

The Pony is down in the dumps this evening. He has been staying after school for about six weeks now, every Monday, to work on a contraption that will fling a pumpkin. This is an activity for a new club that formed this year. They have a self-imposed deadline of Wednesday.

When The Pony entered my classroom at 4:45, he was not himself. Why the long face, one might ask, forgetting that, duh, he's The PONY. He pranced to and fro. I could tell something was on his mind. He's not much of a talker.

"What's wrong? I can tell something's going on."

"Curly can't stay after school tomorrow, either. He has band. It looks like we're not going to get done. And it's our part that's holding everything up."

"You can stay until 3:45. But I have to go vote. We won't have any longer. You know we have to go way out past home to where I vote."

"I know. But it's not worth it. I'm the only one who can stay."

"Isn't there anybody else that can do your part for you?"

"We had four people in our group. But Curly and I are the only two who ever stay to work on it, because the other two have sports."

"Well...you can't be expected to do everything. You have stayed every week."

"I know. We need plumber's tape and two holes drilled. The other two guys have shop class, so maybe they can do it."

"You don't need to worry about it. You did all you could."

"We might have had a chance if Curly brought the plumber's tape today like he said."

"Clubs should not make you feel bad. Don't worry about it."

Yet he did. Because he's The Pony. He's not used to leaving things unfinished, or not having what he's supposed to have. Like that time he forgot to wear PANTS for a lab, and was nearly in hysterics, even though the worst thing to happen was that he would have to make it up one day after school. So I called my mom to go out to our house and find his pants and bring them.

On the way down the hall as we were leaving today, his teacher mentioned a bunch of kids going home with a stomachache.

"Now The Pony has one. He feels bad that the only reason the pumpkin-flinger won't be done is his fault."

"Oh! I told him not to worry. We've got it covered."

"See, Pony? She's going to go down to the shop every hour tomorrow and work on it herself."

"That's right. I'll get it done."

The Pony was still not convinced. On the way home, he commented that nobody had any plumber's tape. But he was sure his dad had some at home, because he'd seen it. At first I wanted to verify that we were talking about plumber's TAPE, and not plumber's CRACK. But it just wasn't the time.

Hick came in from feeding his animals, and asked me first thing, "So how did the pumpkin fling go?"

"Shh...they didn't do it yet. And The Pony is afraid it's his fault because his part isn't done. Curly didn't bring the stuff, and they need two holes drilled and some plumber's tape."

"Aw. Hey, Pony! Do you need a drill? No? I have some plumber's tape over in the BARn. Let's go get it. No...you don't HAVE to walk over there with me. Wait. I think there's some downstairs."

Hick went to the basement. No plumber's tape. He went to the BARn while I dished up The Pony's spinach & ricotta tortellini with garlic toast. Hick was gone quite a while. That was not a good sign. The Pony was almost done eating when he returned.

"Well, I guess I don't have any plumber's tape. I was thinking about running by the auction anyway. I'll pick some up while I'm in town."

"Before you eat? Your supper will get cold."

"Let it sit there. I'll have it when I get back."

Let the record show that Hick rarely goes to the Monday night auction. But when his boy The Pony needs some plumber's tape, he makes a special trip.

Because that's the kind of daddy he is.