Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Monsters, She Called Us


She being Patch, age six, who is now going through a phase where pigs are the cutest, cuddliest, most awesomest animals to walk the earth.  Or maybe it’s guinea pigs, which she desperately wants but owing to their rather strong odor will never reside in our house.  Either one, pigs are adorable to her.

Then she found out there was bacon in the pasta-with-parma-rosa dish my wife made for us Sunday night.

“No!” she cried as her sister gleefully chowed down on a particularly crunchy morsel.

Patch is still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that bacon, ham, and pork all come from the same animal, a pig.  The quizzical look of unsure horror that graces her face rivals the time I told her that technically she, too, was a “mammal.”

So as Little One asked to have the slivers of bacon her younger sister was quarantining to the side of her dinner plate, Patch could only help but cry out, “Monsters!  You’re all monsters!”

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