This is an I-Heart podcast.

Guaranteed Human.

Grandma Karen wants to steal my dad's horses.

He said something to her.

I will never forget.

Probably save a horse ride a cowboy.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Hey, grandma.

Saddle and skeddattle.

Good gravy.

That old skin looking like the sweet leather saddle of the steed I want to ride.

Back story. Dad was an English professor and also raised horses, Arabians, to be specific. We lived in the Midwest on a 10-acre spread next to cattle ranches and such.

That's a pretty big prop. That's a cool place to be. That was the kind of guy who taught me to try to be kind. Never swear in front of a lady, opened the door for people, et cetera, et cetera. Most of things stuck with me throughout my life, except for the swearing. You filthy. He's got a mouth like a sailor. It's right. One day, a Saturday, I believe, a couple of local girls around 12 came over and rang the bell. My dad answered the door and they asked if they could ride our horses. Of course, he politely said no. He couldn't do that and close the door. Imagine the liability issues if they fell off and hurt themselves. True. True. It's sued the shit out of. That's right. Also, Arabians tend to be high-strung

and not too accommodating to inexperienced writers, except for a couple we owned who were total patient sweethearts. And that was that, right? It's, it's getting worked out so well, right? No way. Nope. Or I wouldn't be posting this. Yeah, yeah. Come on. This is Reddit. That's how it goes. Not more than a half hour later, the doorbell chimes again. I'm in the living room watching TV with dad and he answers the door. Standing on the front porch are the two girls again and someone who I took to be the entitled Nana. Grandma. Grandmama.

Dad.

Hello.

What can I do for you?

Grandma Karen.

My granddaughters would like to ride your horses.

Dad, clearly puzzled.

I can't do that.

...