Zebra was thirteen and frustrated. The herd’s ne’er-do-well tripped over a stone one morning. He limped to the watering hole. Fawns cooed. “You okay?
Zebra’s chest puffed up. “Yeah. Kicked a hyena senseless, so…”
“My baby!” Zebra’s mother gushed. “Can you believe he used to wet his bed as a foal?”
Never gloat on social media, especially when your mother is on your friends’ list.
