Ficlets

I painted a pig on Mother’s Day.

It wasn’t a real bovine mind you, it was an acrylic bank in the shape of the Leaner white meat.

My two year old daughter watched in amazement as the white turned into pink with each brush stroke. As I dotted a brilliant blue, Allie looked at me and said, “Eyes!” while pointing to her own sapphire colored orbs. I nodded and repeated back the word in confirmation as I continued to work.

She was anxious for the paint to dry as I carefully scripted her first and middle name on both sides of the pig, the words ‘Allyson’ and ‘Grace’ staking a permanent claim to the coin bank.

Allie hopped around the table as I put on the layer of glitter.

“How does a piggy go?” I asked as I put it on the kitchen counter to dry.

“Ruff Ruff.” She replied very proud of her answer and for that one moment, for that one day, that pig would indeed howl.