My Pain in the Rump threw a foot stompin tantrum yesterday.
Okay, I get it. He was mad. He didn't get to go out due to pasture conditions, no one did. He stole someone else's sweet feed and thus got a double helping and there was all sorts of commotion going on when I got there.
But, really??? It seemed every correction I tried was the exact wrong thing to do. Of course, in retrospect I know it was because I was hyped up before I got there and wasn't exactly synching up with my wild, crazy baby...
He started the foot stompin tap dancin mother of all misbehavin temper tantrums, which had me so flabberghasted at first that I had to go outside and throw my own arm swingin, tooth clenched, grumble-mumble-growl, I don't care if I'm getting mud up to my butt cheeks, jump up and down, tears welling up, tantrum of my own.
Not very mature, is it?
We got it sorted out, myself first, him next, but I feel that sometimes I should lunge myself to burn off my bad day before I walk in the barn.
He is now a perfect gentleman, as for myself, eh, I could use some work.
I was just sitting back and laughing today (definitely not yesterday!) about the look on my BO's face when I returned to the barn and he said 'What's the matter your car won't start?' I threw my hands in the air and said 'NO! MY BLEEPING HORSE WON'T START!'
Meanwhile, Butch looks at me all calm and innocent. 'What, Mom? What's your problem? I'm just standing here.'
Anyone else have 'one of those days?'