Al

                        Stampede is a great opportunity for the city kids to go and learn about farm animals. They get to experience the sights and smells of the non-zoo animals and see them at work. Our experience has always been great. No questions have been historically asked that were outside of our scope as parents of a soon to be first grader.  Until Monday.

            Our animal experience occurred in the Budweiser Heavy Hitch tent. The Clydesdales were in their pens relaxing with hay or just generally dozing. They had a space separating curious hands from the pens lest someone urk a horse and get bit. I was lamenting how much I would love to pet the horses, but was happy to just stand back and admire them.

            I should add that I was at the Stampede with my brother-from-another-mother and his wife and kids. His mom and dad (whom I regard as my own) were there too. The girls were in a chuckwagon (after an unfortunate post spinning ride vomiting incident) which offered shade and a way to not have to walk everywhere.

            There was a rope preventing little hands from touching the horses. I lamented that I would love to pet them but stood back and admired them from a respectable distance. As I was mesmerized by the big brown eyes of a gentle giant named Al, I heard "mama, what's that pink thing?" My gaze lazily drifted from the hypnotic eyes toward the abdomen and a bit further back. There, hanging down, was the largest rogue boner I have seen outside of the zoo. 

            "I think there's an attraction," my friend's mom said as she nudged me in the ribs. A grin had consumed her entire face and she was barely able to contain her mirth. I looked over at the girls who were pointing and staring at what Al had on offer. 

             "I'm not ready to have this conversation," my friend's wife laughed, uncomfortably. The questions came in rapid succession. All from her daughter, while mine giggled. "Is that a boy? What is that? Is that where his pee comes from?" My friend's wife looked like she was taking a bullet with successive question. 

             Being the science student in the group, I decided to break the charged humour of the adults and answer so no one else would have to. "Yep," I said with some authority. Then I added at low mumble "and what a boy." The stranger next to me choke coughed and walked away slowly, avoiding eye contact. My friend's wife steered our chuckwagon out of the tent and back into the chaos of the kid's midway. We managed to avoid anatomical names or any further discussion.

             I looked back at Al, he gazed back. His work here was done and he neatly stowed away the object of our attention. I could've sworn that he winked. I turned to Wade and took his hand. As we walked back out to the midway I muttered something along the lines of "and that's how unrealistic expectations are made."

             Later the Budweiser Heavy Hitch made an appearance at the evening show. "DO YOU THINK AL IS DOWN THERE?" The girls were pointing and standing. All of the "adults" laughed a little too hard while quietly reflecting on the events of the earlier afternoon. 

             After the fireworks, we were walking from the train station to the car and our little cherub piped up with, a confident authority, "was that the horse's penis?" 

              "Yep, that was it," replied Wade. I smiled and silently hoped that she didn't expect human men to be as well endowed. Nothing more has been said on the subject.