So today was embarrassing. It proved that it is always better to tell the truth.
A fortnight ago a little girl, 4 years old, came for her first pony ride. From the barn I saw her getting her hat fitted,
“She’s tiny!” I cried, “I don’t want Bill! He’s too fidgety.”
“That’s ok” replied my colleague, “I don’t want to use Ben. Fancy swapping?”
I nodded gratefully. Bill was a chestnut pony and Ben a grey.
So I told the manager about the change of pony and she said “yes that’s fine but I’ve already told her she’s riding Bill so you’d better call him Bill, not Ben.”
This could get complicated I thought. But who am I to argue?
I introduced pony and rider and we went for a lovely wet walk through the woods. She chattered non-stop and I had to keep biting my tongue to stop calling Ben Ben.
So midday today I walked back to the yard and was greeted by this little girl. “Hi Susy, I’m riding Sunny today. Where’s Bill?”
Remembering the saga I told her Bill was on a lesson and we needed to wait a few minutes until Sunny came back from his.
We waited, and then the real Bill came back from his lesson. His instructor called to me,
“Do you want Bill?”
I shook my head furiously.
“That’s not Bill.” Stated the little girl. “Are there two ponies called Bill?”
I came clean. I explained the change of pony last time and how we were hoping she’d forget by the next time she came. No such luck, I mean, she’d managed to remember my name! Her Mum laughed about it, but I think she thought we were a load of nutcases ….