“That,” Sheldon says, “is a pony.”
He keeps his distance.
“Stunning powers of observation, really,” Irene says, rolling her eyes. She thought John Watson was bad at stating the obvious.
“What am I supposed to do with a pony?”
“I believe you’re supposed to ride it, darling,” she says. “Come on then, jump on. I don’t have all day.”
“N-no, I think I’ll stay over here and watch you.”
“Oh come on, it’ll be fun, I promise. Jump up, and hold on.”
Irene winks at him, and laughs when he looks even more scared at that.
“Such a pretty, pretty pony,” she adds, stroking the side of its neck.