1 Mother 2 Another

This weekend Maddie and I were driving
through some farm country when I spied a curious sight out the
window.


“Look, Maddie!” I cried, and pointed to a group of
horses – one of whom was wearing what I can only describe as
an equine version of a 1950’s rain over-coat. You know the
ones: A translucent plastic that folds up into your purse, but when
the rain starts Voila! You’ve got a see-through raincoat
that’s tailored like a lovely day dress. The horse
didn’t seem to mind and was munching away on some hay while
sporting a semi-translucent plastic coat, tailored over his whole
body. It snapped at the neck, wrapped around his withers, and came
partway down his tail, as if made for his measurements.

“What?” Maddie asked,
straining to see.


“Over there, with all those other horses! Maddie, it’s
a horse in a rain coat! Can you see it?” I pointed out the
window as I slowed down by the strange sight.


“A horse in a RAINCOAT? No way,” Maddie shrieked, and
then spied the animal. She stared, then shrugged. “That
can’t be a raincoat. Horses don’t wear raincoats, Mom,
that’s silly.”


And then she added, “It’s probably just in a
play.”


Which is apparently easier to believe than a horse wearing a
raincoat.