Getting parred by your Mum ... and your Dad

There I was, sharing the exploits of my first horse-riding lesson with my parents, explaining that I might possibly have had to use a block to get on the horse (it being quite big and all) and my Mum turns round and tells me that 'it really isn't that difficult'.  She then goes on to tell me that she had ridden horses in Cuba (or it might have been Mexico) in her youth.  Not content with that, my Dad then regaled me with tales of how he had fallen off a polo pony in India.  And there I was thinking that achieving a rising trot on my first lesson was quite good.  That'll learn me ...