bernie
05-13-2005, 03:25 AM
This happened last saturday. Just a fun story I thought I'd share.
So today was the day my brother and me get to take our niece(9 yrs old) to the horseraces. Upon arrival she let’s me know that her mom told her she may hear some bad language there. She asks me why some have to use that language. I smile and tell her it’s all in the context you use it in. Along with who you use it in front of. She seems stoked. All the while my other niece (7yrs old) is relentless in asking when it’s her turn. Once I escape her clutches we are able to be on our way.
We arrive and see it’s already kind of a new world to her. She’s not sure what she’s in for. Though she does notice that fresh horseshit smell. We tell her she’ll get used to it. We show her by taking a deep breath and acting like it’s heaven. She isn’t buying it at all. Once we get in, I make a deal with her that while I’m betting, any horse that comes in and pays, she gets ½. She digs this idea. We end up losing the first 4 races. Not just losing, dead effing last every race.
Now she’s kind of sensitive about animals. She overheard me calling a horse a piece of crap. She reprimanded me letting me know that horses have feelings too. My brother got a kick out of this. I told her she’ll understand soon why I’m saying that. I assure her it’s nothing personal between the horse and me.
We’re hungry so I look for food. I find a sandwich. It’s one of the best sandwiches I’ve ever had. It’s a panini. They call it a Tuscanny. Proscuito ham with pepperoni (I think another meat also), provolone cheese, sliced tomato, Italian mayo or mustard sprayed with garlic sauce then heated. All in between some Italian bread. Overpriced? Yep. After splitting one with her, I went and got another one. My goal is to find out the ingredients and make it at home.
So she really likes that and munches away. We tell her some stories about some of the history in our family regarding horses. There is a little history in our family regarding horses. Our great grandfather used to race the trotters and pacers. So we told her some stories that were related to us by our grandpa.
We take her to the paddock to watch the horses close up. She digs this. She likes how the horses are looking at her. Points out the ones that are drooling. Giggles and snickers a little when she sees one take a crap right in front of us. It was kind of like a parade to her.
We lose a couple more races and she’s thinking of ice cream. Cool. I get her a big waffle cone. At one point I ask her who taught her how to eat a cone as she has munched the bottom out of it. So now it’s dripping no matter which way she holds it. I keep razzing her about that, sometimes saying out loud, “Who’s kid is this that can’t eat a cone right!?!” It’s all over her pants in droplets.
We’ve been letting her hold our tickets while the race goes. After awhile she notices people throwing them on the ground. She was taught not to litter. We assure her it’s ok and someone is paid to clean it up. It’s expected. So I take a ticket and show her how to toss it. She ends up tossing her ticket to the ground saying, imitatingly, to the ticket, “crap!!!” We tell her she’s getting good at that. We also tell her not to do that at home in front of her mom. It’s a little different there. She nods in agreement.
We go up to the clubhouse to meet a friend. While we wait for him to show up, we look out the window overlooking the paddock and watch the horses go around again. She likes this view. As I’m about to go place a bet, she holds out $2 and asks me to put it on a horse. I ask her if she’s really sure, she says yes. I ask her if she understands that if she loses it doesn’t come back. She tells me nervously to hurry and place the bet. Her horse comes in the middle of the pack. Closest so far. Now she is really looking at the horses.
Friend shows and treats her like a little princess. Kissing her hand and telling her how beautiful she is in his Italian way. She has a horse picked so we run it for her. The friend slips her $6 and tells her to put 2 across on any horse she likes. She’s really nervous now. We assure her it’s ok, pick one. We tell her about coupled horses and how you get 2 horses for 1price. She takes it.
The horse wires it. Everyone in that group was yelling and she was kind of wondering why. (She was still in censory overload and hadn’t yet caught on to everything) We told her we were yelling for her horse to come in and it did. She thought that was pretty cool. Her initial bet she bet to place (2nd). It missed narrowly and came in 3rd. It would’ve paid pretty nice.
We decide to leave. Friend gives her a princess’ good-bye. On the way out we cash her ticket which she’s grinning waiting for her payout. It’s extra special for her since she’s the only one that made money of us 3. She’s on her tip toes walking out.
Upon arriving to her house, my other brother is in the driveway yapping with my sis. I get out and tell him with a smile, ‘well, we got her gambling with her own money and swearing at her horses. All we need now is her to smoke or drink and we got her covered.” He laughs and mentions it’d be funny if she came out with a ciggy in her mouth, a racing form under her arm and a lowball glass of apple juice on the rocks.
She can’t wait to tell her mom, and everyone else how she won and how pretty all the horses were. All the while the 7 year old picks up where she left off. Using me as a jungle jim.
b
So today was the day my brother and me get to take our niece(9 yrs old) to the horseraces. Upon arrival she let’s me know that her mom told her she may hear some bad language there. She asks me why some have to use that language. I smile and tell her it’s all in the context you use it in. Along with who you use it in front of. She seems stoked. All the while my other niece (7yrs old) is relentless in asking when it’s her turn. Once I escape her clutches we are able to be on our way.
We arrive and see it’s already kind of a new world to her. She’s not sure what she’s in for. Though she does notice that fresh horseshit smell. We tell her she’ll get used to it. We show her by taking a deep breath and acting like it’s heaven. She isn’t buying it at all. Once we get in, I make a deal with her that while I’m betting, any horse that comes in and pays, she gets ½. She digs this idea. We end up losing the first 4 races. Not just losing, dead effing last every race.
Now she’s kind of sensitive about animals. She overheard me calling a horse a piece of crap. She reprimanded me letting me know that horses have feelings too. My brother got a kick out of this. I told her she’ll understand soon why I’m saying that. I assure her it’s nothing personal between the horse and me.
We’re hungry so I look for food. I find a sandwich. It’s one of the best sandwiches I’ve ever had. It’s a panini. They call it a Tuscanny. Proscuito ham with pepperoni (I think another meat also), provolone cheese, sliced tomato, Italian mayo or mustard sprayed with garlic sauce then heated. All in between some Italian bread. Overpriced? Yep. After splitting one with her, I went and got another one. My goal is to find out the ingredients and make it at home.
So she really likes that and munches away. We tell her some stories about some of the history in our family regarding horses. There is a little history in our family regarding horses. Our great grandfather used to race the trotters and pacers. So we told her some stories that were related to us by our grandpa.
We take her to the paddock to watch the horses close up. She digs this. She likes how the horses are looking at her. Points out the ones that are drooling. Giggles and snickers a little when she sees one take a crap right in front of us. It was kind of like a parade to her.
We lose a couple more races and she’s thinking of ice cream. Cool. I get her a big waffle cone. At one point I ask her who taught her how to eat a cone as she has munched the bottom out of it. So now it’s dripping no matter which way she holds it. I keep razzing her about that, sometimes saying out loud, “Who’s kid is this that can’t eat a cone right!?!” It’s all over her pants in droplets.
We’ve been letting her hold our tickets while the race goes. After awhile she notices people throwing them on the ground. She was taught not to litter. We assure her it’s ok and someone is paid to clean it up. It’s expected. So I take a ticket and show her how to toss it. She ends up tossing her ticket to the ground saying, imitatingly, to the ticket, “crap!!!” We tell her she’s getting good at that. We also tell her not to do that at home in front of her mom. It’s a little different there. She nods in agreement.
We go up to the clubhouse to meet a friend. While we wait for him to show up, we look out the window overlooking the paddock and watch the horses go around again. She likes this view. As I’m about to go place a bet, she holds out $2 and asks me to put it on a horse. I ask her if she’s really sure, she says yes. I ask her if she understands that if she loses it doesn’t come back. She tells me nervously to hurry and place the bet. Her horse comes in the middle of the pack. Closest so far. Now she is really looking at the horses.
Friend shows and treats her like a little princess. Kissing her hand and telling her how beautiful she is in his Italian way. She has a horse picked so we run it for her. The friend slips her $6 and tells her to put 2 across on any horse she likes. She’s really nervous now. We assure her it’s ok, pick one. We tell her about coupled horses and how you get 2 horses for 1price. She takes it.
The horse wires it. Everyone in that group was yelling and she was kind of wondering why. (She was still in censory overload and hadn’t yet caught on to everything) We told her we were yelling for her horse to come in and it did. She thought that was pretty cool. Her initial bet she bet to place (2nd). It missed narrowly and came in 3rd. It would’ve paid pretty nice.
We decide to leave. Friend gives her a princess’ good-bye. On the way out we cash her ticket which she’s grinning waiting for her payout. It’s extra special for her since she’s the only one that made money of us 3. She’s on her tip toes walking out.
Upon arriving to her house, my other brother is in the driveway yapping with my sis. I get out and tell him with a smile, ‘well, we got her gambling with her own money and swearing at her horses. All we need now is her to smoke or drink and we got her covered.” He laughs and mentions it’d be funny if she came out with a ciggy in her mouth, a racing form under her arm and a lowball glass of apple juice on the rocks.
She can’t wait to tell her mom, and everyone else how she won and how pretty all the horses were. All the while the 7 year old picks up where she left off. Using me as a jungle jim.
b