Sam and Jack asked me to print copies of the pictures from the rodeo and put them in a book. Sam wants to take his for Show and Share at school and Jack simply needs his "to put in his bag in case he ever needs to go camping." As I uploaded them to order prints, I saw a sequence of shots that didn't involve riding horses or bulls. Instead, it shows a stubborn bull who refused to leave the the ring after his ride, forcing the cowboys to rope him and drag him back to his holding pen.
One stubborn, headstrong, male specimen.
He wasn't leaving on his on free will. No, he preferred to be dragged out of the arena, hooves firmly planted in the dirt.
Something about this seems strangely familiar to me. And it has nothing to do will bull riding or rodeos.
It pretty much depicts every experience I have when I tell my own male specimens that it's time to leave somewhere when they aren't ready. Target. Chick-fil-a. Cade and Cannon's house. The backyard. It always ends the same...me having to apply force while spewing empty threats and complaining about their stubbornness. Another side effect of a life overflowing with testosterone. I need a new game plan. And it will likely involve a lasso.
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