Chasing Pigs. Got a phone call, last night, from our friends across the street. I was snuggling up to Big Daddy, we (all of us) were having a movie night and enjoying “The Adventures in Babysitting” (with the assistance of our lovely clear play machine). Well, Brian is not the quietest person on the face of the planet and his voice BOOMS when he talks, and the earth shakes with his incredible laugh. Love to hear him laugh.
Anyway, I heard the words “lost” and “pig” in the same sentence. I looked at Big Daddy, and I asked him if he said that he lost a pig and if he did….when, on earth, did he get a pig? Her name is Petunia, and she was a runaway. So, all 5 kids excitedly get on their shoes, turn on all the outside lights and head out to search for the lost pig. To no avail. Petunia was nowhere to be found. Sadness.
Went onto bed and this morning, got up to take the 3 youngers to school. I’m not a typical “get them to school” mom where every hair is in place. I’m a throw on your pants, pull your Tina Turner hair in a ponytail, giant zit shining on my chin and no bra kind of mom. We jump in the car, pull out, and I slow down thinking…”did I just see a giant pig?”
Why, yes I did…so the kids and I try to flank said pig. She is HUGE and I “assumed” she would be slow. I was severely mistaken. Just cause your fat, doesn’t mean you can’t move like lightning. A woman, looking like I do, with no “support” because just running the kids to school doesn’t require putting support on….it is not a pretty sight. Not.At.All.
Get the kids to school, and what do I see, on the way home, but the pig, in the neighbor’s driveway is flanked by 2 dogs. Easy as pie. I stop, gather the “girls” up for another run at the pig and off we go.
Pig 2, Brandi 0
I stop at my friend’s house, and she is just as disheveled as I am. I’m greeted at the door by Precious Child #1. I could merely eat that little girl up. I love it when someone is *so* happy to see me that her whole face lights up. She lets me in, mommy has just rolled out of bed, holding Precious Child #2. I’m in Heaven…sheer heaven. Rocking one baby, sitting with the other, watching Tarzan and being in the company of a friend. I tell her of my “issue” with the pig. She doesn’t seem concerned, so I just sit and rock.
I realize that I have to be ready for a visitor at 9:00 and I are looking, not appropriate. Big Daddy’s only request was that I brush my hair, teeth and wear a bra. I passed on my girls to their sweet mama and headed out. As I’m getting in the car, I look up in the distance to see that stupid pig running down the road at full speed.
I knock on friend’s window, tell her where the pig is headed and she flies out the door with an infant in hand, toddler trailing behind her. I pick up Precious #1 cause she doesn’t’ have shoes, and as we are standing in the front yard, we are both squinting down the road to see the black speck that is Petunia. She hands me Precious #2 and flies in the house to get her shoes on. I take both girls to my house to feed #1 breakfast and just to smell #2. In the process, I get Peach out the front door, with her bike and she heads out to help corral the pig.
Pig 3, friend & kid 0
It. Is. ON.