The Paddock Can't Hold Him Like It Used To

Last night, The Pony took his "Rouge" for a spin.

He had not planned on going anywhere. No farther than the basement couch, where he alternates playing computer games and writing science fiction, while vehemently denying watching pr0n on my internet. (It never hurts to keep him on his toes. Yesterday, I said, "Are you watching pr0n on my internet again?" And he said, "NO!" To which I replied, "Oh, you're using your OWN internet?" Heh, heh. I like to wind him up.)

Anyhoo...here I am, sitting at New Delly around 6:00, eating the saddest supper ever (more on that another day), when in comes The Pony.

"Oh, Mom. Is it okay if I go out to Biffy's house? She says I can stay as late as I want." (Biffy, because she is the BFF of a gal who graduated last year who is friends with The Pony, the one he spent the day with at the Very Special Award [STILL not a leg lamp] weekend back in April. He met Biffy that weekend in the dorm.)

"I guess so. Do you know where she lives?"

"No. But I have the Garmin. She says her sister and her boyfriend live next door, in case you are worried about us being supervised." (I think it's probably past time to worry about that, since The Pony IS 18 now, and this girl is older, and he will be going off to live his life out from under my thumb in three months, anyway. Besides, how good of supervision can a girl and her live-in boyfriend provide from next door, anyway?)

"Okay. But be careful driving. You'll have to go the long way. The bridge is flooded."

"I know. I will."

So off he went, in his new used "Missing Rouge," to an evening of TV-watching with a college girl home for the summer. He dutifully sent me a text when he arrived, and when he was ready to come home. Let's face it. He has only had his driver's license since Christmas, and driving after dark and in the rain are not something he has a lot of experience with.

I breathed a sigh of relief when he came in the door at 10:25. Little did I know what perils had befallen him. It only took minimal tooth-pulling to get the story.

On the bright side, they watched TV and some parts of movies, and ate pizza, and talked about college, and The Pony showed her some of his short stories and poems on his laptop.

On the dark side, the Garmin had a mind of its own. Let the record show that this place was on the other side of Backroads, even past my old workplace (I'm retired! Have you heard?), and out in the sticks. Which is sayin' something considering where we live.

"I guess the Garmin tried to take me there by the shortest route. It told me to turn on a dirt road."

"Did you?"

"Uh huh."

"Wasn't it muddy from all the rain?"

"Yeah. I went really slow so I didn't get mud all over my car. And somebody must not have wanted people to go down that road, because there was a cable stretched across it. So I had to drive around a tree to get past that."

As you might imagine, the sound of dueling banjos filled my noggin.

"Um. You have to be careful. You never know what people might do. When I used to travel that one road on the way to Genius's college...two cars had the road blocked one night. Parked right across it, their front bumpers touching. And people were standing around, trying to flag me down. I drove off the road in the ditch to get around them. You can't be too careful. I would never stop like that when I'm by myself."

"Everything was okay. I made sure to park behind Biffy's car, so I didn't block anybody else in. But when I left, I didn't go out that way."

"I think that was a good decision."

Yes, our little Pony is growing up. It's probably a good thing I'll never know half of what goes on at college.

Right now, let's just get through the summer without an older woman inviting him up to see her etchings.