Regrets

Memory Monday~

I hate regrets. Like the time Bippo the Hippo came to my kindergarten class to teach us how to brush our teeth and he chose me to get up and dance with him and I was too shy and said no. That has always bugged me. Really.


Some things I shied away from because I wasn't easily good at it or my friends weren't doing it. For instance, I grew up on a cattle ranch. You would think I would be a horse-whisperer or something. I'm pretty sure I could saddle one if needs be, but I didn't invest much time or effort in that arena.


I always ran track, hurdles, specifically. I had "my nerves are out of control" diahrrea before, during and after each track meet. A whiff of rubber from a track during springtime makes me want to find a wastebasket. My friends did it and the bus rides were fun and those two categories ruled my high school brain.


I've always thought that if I could go back and re-choose how I spent some of my time, I would choose to rope and ride (just like Toby Keith's song). During highschool, my dad bought a horse named Rita. He said she was for me. I mounted and started riding in the field behind our house and she took off. No matter how hard I pulled on the reins, she kept full-on sprinting to what I knew was going to be my death. I finally got her slowed down and made it back to the barnyard. I was not just scared, I was bawling and in hysterics. I started walking to the house vowing to never look at Rita again. My dad made me get back on.....that was not an easy battle I assure you. But, it was too late. I didn't feel super comfortable atop a horse. I wish I had been bolder and braver. I wish I had taken advantage of what was right outside my door.