Little Mr. Troublemaker

Geniuses have a long, long history of causing trouble - always going about trying to convince people that the world isn't flat, that the sun doesn't revolve around the earth, that germs exist.....that fencing is merely a suggestion rather than a law of nature.  Which is why, for the second time in a week, I have been rudely awakened by either a neighbor yelling at me or the by the sound of little hooves galloping where no little hooves should be.

The first time happened last Thursday when I was jerked awake at a very early hour by a horn blowing in my driveway.  In my highly befuddled state, I thought it was the mailman who beeps at me if he has a package.  This was ridiculous, of course, since the mailman NEVER shows up 7:00 am, but for a night shift worker jerked out of rare and much needed sleep, befuddlement is the best you can hope for.  Fortunately, the horn was persistent and paid no heed to my mumbled swearing long enough to get me up and let me know that all my donkeys were running around down the road.

That woke me right up.  Caffeine can't hold a candle to sheer terror.

I grabbed a rope, a bucket of grain and hopped on the ATV to chase down the miscreants.  Luckily, they were only about 1/2 a  mile away, just coming off the neighbors lawn.  I called to them and they all trotted right over, happy and eager to see me and tell me all about their morning adventures.  What FUN they'd had!  They were also happy to follow me home, back to their comfy barn and away from the flies.

A week later, I was once again rudely awakened, this time by the sound of galloping hooves beneath my bedroom window where galloping hooves should never be.  THAT noise produces and instantaneous, wide-awake response. 

I'd gone around the fence a dozen times and couldn't figure out how they were getting out.  Then, I just happened to see Little Albert Einstein mosey around the back of the barn, head over to the corner where the fence meets the wall, look both ways to make sure no one was watching and oh-so-carefully push the fence post over just far enough for bunch of little hooligans (and one large one) to fit through. 

Geniuses. Nothing but trouble.

I've fixed the fence so that so that no one without thumbs can get through and everyone is mad at me because their lives are just so terribly boring and I am a very mean mom.  While they're standing around in front of the fan, looking all sweet and innocent, I know that they are all plotting.

There is one little smart ass in particular who is trying to think up some wild new idea.  Maybe it's the stripes that make him extra devious.