RECYCLING AT ITS BEST
It was hidden in the crawlspace.
Then it appeared, plus a little bit of mold that was easily wiped off.
The almost half-a-century-old hobbyhorse now has a permanent place in the open to entertain yet another generation of toddlers and curtain climbers.
And no one could have been more thrilled than granddaughter Chloe to take the reins.
At least for now.
It won't be long before her brother Parker will join in on the fun, a year or so after he's born.
And it won't be long before they grow up and their children will be eyeballing a hobbyhorse named King Harry.
I'd best go buy cowboy and cowgirl hats for everyone.
I don't remember growing older.
4 Comments:
diana,
You haven't grown older. It's Einsteinian relativistic time moving backwards.
Norm
one of the first signs is not remembering!
Diana,
At least you remember The Hobby Horse!
My kids had one. It rusted in our back yard. What a shame!
Nah, Nana, nah! Horsey!! Nana, Annie, Poppins, birdie, nails....I miss you!!
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