You should never promise your child a pony for their birthday. I made the mistake of doing that to my daughter and it came back to haunt me. Three weeks before my little girl was to turn 5 she asked me for a pony for her birthday. I was busy with something important like…. Work stuff or football or international cream corn wrestling championships. All I really remember was that I just wanted her to shut up, so I agreed and that was that.
Come the day before her birthday and my wife asked me if I had remembered to get the pony? Of course I had not, but was not going to tell her that or she would be chewing me out during the entire WWE Busty Brawl that I just spent $85.99 on pay-per-view for. So I told her I did and would get out later that day to go to the “FARM” it was at and bring it home.
As I’m driving around that night desperately looking for a pony store that would have maybe a three legged or terminally ill pony they would give me for five dollars, because that was all I had to spend. I spent the rest of the money I had on beer and beef jerky. I was about to give up when I noticed something in my review mirror. As I turned my car around, I had to wipe my eyes to make sure that I was actually seeing what I was seeing. I was saved!!!
The next day after all the kids had arrived for my daughter’s party and they had finished playing games, eating cake and opening all her presents. My sweet little girl looked at me and asked if I had gotten her the pony I promised. I pump out my chest with pride, looked her straight in the eyes and with a big smile on my face I said, “Yes honey I did, let’s go out to the shed so you can ride it”.
As all the kids gleefully skipped and ran to the shed to see my daughter’s new pony, I suddenly knew the wonderful and warm feeling of doing good things for others. It was a grand feeling that I had not felt much in my life and was a little ashamed that I hadn’t. As we got to the shed and I held the door knob, I could see the anticipation in my daughters face and in her smile the unquestionable love she had for me that one moment in time. At the count of three I swung the door open to reveal the present I had given my daughter for her birthday.
There are no words to appropriately describe the horror that was displayed on all the children’s faces at that moment. I’m sure that anything other than a family disaster or all out war carnage will ever make them have a similar one on their faces ever again. Even the mothers and fathers of the children were crying at the sight I had revealed to them.
Looking into the shed what I saw was a group of meat covered bones strewn all throughout the shed. There was blood splattered on the floor and rotting meat hanging from the walls. With the pain of great shock and disbelief in my eyes, I looked at my daughter and said, “Oh no!!! It looks like a mountain lion has eaten your pony”! “Well, let’s go in and watch football”. “Be good little girl and get daddy a beer”.
Yeah I’m sure all the children were traumatized and most of them will need therapy. But the lesson that we learned here was that you should always live near to a butcher that sells old bones and spoiled beef at a reduced price and maybe not telling your children that mountain lions do not live in the city.