My baby started school today. At not yet five, she is over seven years younger than her big sister and feels the difference keenly. Last Saturday her big sister went back to her riding lesson. She spends most of the day at a local riding school, mucking out, tacking up and generally helping along with a host of other girls around her age, under the watchful eye of Claire. I thought that our youngest would like ride Rosie that day. She loves riding Rosie, who is very kind to her, but on Saturday decided that she wanted to be having a riding lesson too with her sister. “I am giving you a lesson” I said, although, in truth, it is Rosie who teaches. “But I want a lesson with Claire!”
Afterwards, she wanted to help me so I suggested she sweep the stable. She busily swept in silence for a while and suddenly announced: “I am like Cinderella.” “How is that?” “My sister is invited to the lesson and I have to sweep the floor.”
So there you have it: ponies at home: cinderella at home.