I Never Exaggerate

I've been accused of the crime of exaggeration.  I don't know why, because it's blatantly untrue.  The person that started this vicious rumor is just mad, I think, that my horse is so much more wonderful and amazing than her horse.  It's just jealousy. 

She should be jealous, and I'm about to tell you why. 

I spent the day with my very favorite guy yesterday.  Peter and the kids tagged along, too.  We went to my mother's house and got ready for a day on the trails, but something more exciting caught our eyes.  Sitting right there in my parents' side yard lay a huge, ginormous, sixty foot long casualty of Isaac.  My favorite guy and I walked around the colossal testament of the storm's mighty force and eyeballed it, hmm hmming and tsk tsking.  We wandered across the driveway, sized up a good path, and made a run for it, dodging out-of-bloom azalea and wisteria bushes until we reached It.  A brief hesitation while he checked his stride, then Blitz soared, up and over. 

We touched the clouds. 

When Blitz's hooves (freshly shod and adorable) touched earth again, we made a circle and went back for another turn.  The second time was even better than the first.  No horse could jump higher than my horse.  Olympic riders should be embarrassed if they could see how much better we were than them, and on the first try, too. 

I went to the back porch where my parents were sitting, drinking iced tea as all old southern people are wont to do.  "Did you see that?  We just jumped that!  It was at least ten feet high!  We could be in shows!  We could be in Olympics!  Where's your camcorder?  You've got to record this so I can put it on YouTube!"

They didn't move, except Donald took another sip of tea and rocked his chair on it's back legs. 

"Mama?  Come on! You gotta come see us jump!  I coulda died and it was totally cool!"

She fanned herself with her visor.  "It's warm today, isn't it, Donald?  I hope it cools off before the fair next week."

"Ayup," he says. 

Hellooo?  Where's my fan club?  I take a new tact.  "Mother.  Don't you want to watch me jump that huge tree in the side yard?  I could fall and break my leg or die and you could have it on video." I figure that would inspire her to get up.

"It's just a log, Kerri."