The B-Man’s brother, who I call “The G-Man,” wrote us and asked if we had any suggestions for rocking horses for his grand-kids.

His request made me think of my little brother’s rocking horse. For a variety of reasons, Nevada Girl and I called our brother “Rosie.”

So, anyway, Rosie had this hard plastic horse attached by springs to a metal frame. He’d get on it and we’d help by pushing down the head of the horse and suddenly letting go. Oh, how we laughed! Rosie probably didn’t think it was as funny as we did, but that’s part of the curse of being the youngest kid, right?

The springs attaching the horse to the frame were really strong and thick. And we could get them to spread really wide before setting Rosie on her wild ride. It was only a matter of time before I got my inquisitive fingers pinched between them. Man, did it hurt! Boy, did they laugh! (That’s when I got my nickname “Cry Baby,” which, according to The B-Man, I still am. I guess that’s the curse of being the sensitive middle child.)

Nowadays they cover the springs with a rubber sheath which is good news, but still doesn’t help with The G-Man’s question: any suggestions for a safe rocking horse for the grand-kids?

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