A Little Song, a Little Dance, a Little Sprite at Second Glance

With his departure imminent, The Pony is feeling his oats and chomping at the bit. He has called a brief truce by volunteering to ride beside me in T-Hoe, rather than behind, being chauffeured like the Grey Poupon snob.

Yesterday, in the midst of running our errands and having him shot, I lamented the fact that his cup of McDonand's breakfast Sprite was still in T-Hoe's cup holder. Not-heaven knows I don't want my T-Hoe all sticky with sugary soda.

"Oh. I meant to tell you to pour that out as we left Walmart. Now we've made two trips to get your shot, and it's probably seeping out the bottom of the cup. When we stop, pour--"

"Here, then." With that, The Pony snatched up the waxed cardboard cup of McDonald's Sprite, and put his window down.

"NO! Don't do it while we're moving!"

"I'll get rid of it for you right now!"

"NO! STOP!"

"There you go!"

"WHY DID YOU DO THAT? It will be all over the side of the car! And the dust will stick to it when we get on the gravel!"

"No, I held it out. It's not on the car."

"Are you sure?"

The Pony stuck his head out and glanced back. "Yep. It's clear. What's the matter, were you afraid I was going to throw the whole cup out?"

"No. I didn't want the side of the car all sticky. I'm sure it's on there. I TOLD you NO! Who do you think you are, just doing the opposite of what I say? It's going to be a mess. You are so...so...STUPID!"

"I'm not stupid!"

"We'll see, won't we?"

With all the melting groceries to put away when we got home, and my lunch to prepare at the late hour of 2:00, I forgot about the side of T-Hoe. But never fear. I was meeting my sister the ex-mayor's wife at 9:30 the next morning, about that extra Social Security check (a whole 'nother story), and I knew SHE would let me know how T-Hoe looked. Without any prompting.

I even asked The Pony again, before leaving that morning, since he had gone outside to get some stuff out of the car. Namely, his bag of McDonald's trash, and his second pair of new glasses that he'd been leaving in there.

"How does my car look?"

"What do you mean?"

"The side of it. Where you poured soda."

"It's fine."

"Not all spotty?"

"No. It looks fine."

I'll let you be the judge, with this picture taken on the parking lot at the Social Security office.

As Sis said, "It's a mess!"

When I got home, I hollered down to the basement to The Pony. "Want to come out and see my car?"

"No. There's no need for that."

"Are you having attitude with me?"

"No. That just won't be necessary."

"It's COVERED in soda and dust! So why are YOU giving ME an attitude?"

"It's not an attitude. It was my way of trying to deny what I'd done."

Just so we're clear. Unlike the side of T-Hoe.