My husband is terrified of getting kicked, or having them kick me or Hallie.
He almost had me convinced last week. These stinkin' horses, I tell you what. We decided to go pick up golf balls, our favorite evening past-time. Dave thought (and I agreed) that it would be smart to bring a bucket to put the balls in after they were gathered. We usually just stuff them into pockets or make a hammock out of our shirts. I'm sure you know what I mean.
Anyway, I thought it was brilliant right up until the horses thought we were feeding them and just about ran us over to get the food...err, golfballs. I wasn't too worried, and just shooed them away. Dave, on the other hand, freaked out and made us run away like sissies.
I will say it was a tiny bit nerve-wracking, but we made it though.
|Hard to climb a fence in skinny jeans!|
They seemed so harmless at first...no big deal. Although if you click on the picture you can see how nervous Dave looks.
|Trying to eat the golfballs. For real.|