Valentine's Day was sidelined this year, as we were going to a friend's wedding in deepest darkest rural France. I did get these roses though.
Unfortunately, they arrived two hours before leaving for Champagne, and apparently it's considered inappropriate to bring your own bouquet to a wedding. It's 'her day'. Or something. Cue childish peeve for the whole drive there, silence punctuated by whines, interspersed with moans and gritted teeth.
Luckily, despite leaving the heating on full for a weekend after leaving in a whirlwind of half-ironed shirts, laddered tights, and sulks, they were still there when I got back. As was this
Christ no, it's not a soft toy. You think I'd tolerate giant Moomin-faced horses as a gesture of romance at my age? Especially when I'd asked for, and was promised, a pony. A real one.
It is, however, considered animal cruelty under the laws of both France and Belgium (fact. I might even have checked) to keep a pony in a sixth-floor one-room apartment, and I'm in no position to afford stabling fees at present. Which is why...
Yes, a space-hopper. A space-hopper pony. It's genius.
One hitch is his repeated exhortations to 'hump the pony' and refusal to believe hump does not mean ride. This has gone on for so long, I have begun to doubt myself, and wonder if he is a linguistic throwback to more innocent times. Upon checking the dictionary, I discover, indeed, that
Main Entry: 2hump
- Function: verb
- Date: circa 1785
Who knew. I shall now defer to the Frenchman in all linguistic squabbles, and hump the pony merrily like there's no tomorrow.
2 comments:
I am slightly torn. I wanted to love the space hopper pony which is an idea of terrifying genius. But in the flesh, or fur, it's also a bit terrifying. I am not sure I would want that chasing me round the house.
A trip to Animal Express in Grand Bigard will show you that there ARE no animal laws in Belgium. Kangaroo? Certainly madam. With bébé en poche? Of course. Snowy Owl to sit on your terrace? No worries. Our €500 tortoise came with a till receipt that read 'divers'.
Hurrah! No more excuses then; I shall have my pony and starve it so it fits on my 30cm balcony.
The current one doesn't chase anything anywhere. It refuses to stay upright and is now head-first in the laundry bin. Lazy sod.
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