When I was 9 or 10 we were living in MCAS Miramar. That's a military base in San Diego, friends. Back in the day, the now RV Parking lot was a horse stable. We had horses, I rode horses, I competed, I rode on trails.. ya get it? Fabulous.
One fine day, we went for a trail ride. That's me, my mom and 3 other friends. My dad was behind us by a half mile or so most of the ride, until he wasn't. His horse got caught in a bad situation, my dad flew off and the horse bolted right through our group of horses.
My dear horse flew off at a run, and I flew off it's back. One other lady fell off, my dad had broken his wrist in his fall.. it was an ugly sight and ambulances were involved.
(This picture has nothing to do with.. anything. I just wanted you guys to know that I can fly jets.)
Skip three days forward.
I'm better for the most part. Scraped and bruised, but better. We make a trek back to the stable, and I'm just so excited. Why? Well, the day of the accident, I had bought a bag of Chewy Runts at the vending machine. I hadn't gotten to them before the ride, and needless to say I didn't get to them after.
I open the locker door and glance to where I had set them..
And they're gone. GONE. Gone.
Holy hell. Someone ate my Chewy Runts. I cried to my mom and she bought me some more. I still blame my brother.
Moral of the story: Don't get in accidents, someone will steal your candy.
Other moral of the story: Don't write blog posts at midnight. They'll end up being stupid like this.