“This is my rubber horsey not my plastic one. It’s just soft rubber. I don’t mind if I share my horse with you. It’s actually not even a horse; it’s a pony. My Mommy only buys me the plastic ones because they're cheap.” said four year old Mia.
With a few bangs inches longer than the rest, she continued to sputter her words at me with a slight lisp as neither seemed to bother her conversation or the fact that I was a complete stranger.
“My Daddy didn’t come camping with us because he doesn't like to camp so he stayed home and worked on our house in said city because he does good work on a big tractor and my Mommy does good with a tent. That’s my friend, but I sometimes don’t like to share with her and these are her horses that she brought here.”





