I've worked in a daycare, I've worked at several horse barns. The comparisons are lengthy but it all starts with hyperactive parents/owners who firmly believe that their child/animal is the most important part of your day and that as such your undivided attention must be devoted to it.
I don't know which is worse.
The parents, I can understand. It is their kid we're talking about.
I have no tolerance for the horse owners. It is animals we're talking about. And as much as they like to think that their pony is world class material, it's not. And no, I'm not spoon feeding it.
Tonight I fed over 50 horses at our neighbor's ranch. Some of their horses are nice stock, others are boarders and my worst nightmare is dealing with overprotective horse boarders.
"Now you know that Emma gets half a scoop of feed and only one flake of hay? Oh, and just half a flake of alfalfa. She's fat." I even get the arms in a circle as if I don't understand the meaning of fat.
Another boarder rushes out.
"Are you guys doing chores tonight?"
No, I'm standing on a mountain of hay throwing bales down to my little sister for no real reason.
"I'm guessing you know what you're doing?"
Again, no. I am a chore virgin and basically, I'm winging it.
"Did you give Merry Christmas and McDreamy two flakes of hay? Under the canopy for when it rains?"
I didn't but your friend with you did. She waved us off as we were driving by.
"No, I didn't feed them. I just picked up a flake, one, that fell off your wagon. I didn't feed them!"
Bitch. Throwing me under the bus? Really? But then...
"It was Merry Christmas' day yesterday, wasn't it?" I said, feigning interest.
Her owner gushed. And then ...
"That's like the only day out of the year her name is appropriate." Uh-huh. I went there. For reals.
She was in so much shock that the hired help actually used a big word like appropriate that she grabbed two flakes of hay and walked away.
Back in the barn, another boarder walked by.
"Oh, are you guys the new help?"
Nope. Just helping out a friend.
Bitchy horse owners are best spoken to in brief, declarative sentences with eyes averted to the ground and forward motion maintained at all times to avoid getting caught in their devious web of misinformation and misguided instructions.
But really, I want to say to them - who do you think properly cares for your animals the six days out of the week you're non-existent to them?
Amazingly, every seventh day you show up, they're alive and well. Shocking.