pony express

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I've been casually looking at houses. There are many to like, but a problematic theme has developed: swimming pools and horse stables. An amazing percentage of houses I like happen to have one or both of those PITA things I do not want.

Especially stables.

You see, for years now I've tortured my Mom Friends who have daughters. "I'll buy you a pony for your 10th birthday," I told Allie's kid, Lily, during her birthday call. "Just so long as it's okay with Mom."

(She talks to Mom)

Lily: "She says we don't have room for a pony and that you're a filthy liar."

Me: "What is she talking about? Your back yard is HUGE!"

Lily (to Mom): "What are you talking about? Our back yard is HUGE!"

Lily (to me): "I'm not allowed to repeat what she just said about you. But it was really bad."

And so it goes, every time we talk. You can see, then, that I can absolutely not move to Lily's hometown into a place with a stable. I'm thinking maybe an efficiency apartment until she's 30.