Poopoo Post

Excerpted from my mental letter/memo to Pig's Poopoo:

To: Pig's Poopoo
From: Mama Pig
Subject: You

Girlfriend, you've changed. When we first met you were manageable, a little on the abundant side and you had some issues with creeping out of the confines of your diaper home and unexpectedly attacking the custodial staff (myself and Papa Pig and on several occasions, halmuhnee and harabuhjee [Pig's LA grand-peeps]), but on the whole we were cool, you and I.

But now... There were several times when I opened up your diaper home only to black out, albeit for a few seconds, but I'm sure it resulted in the demise of several brain cells, in particular the olfactory ones. We're also concerned about the shapeshifting. You were once content to remain granular but these days you've been trying to intimidate us with your impressions of Mount Everest or the La Brea Tar Pits.

I understand that I share some of the blame, I was the one who introduced Pig to the delicious goodness that is fruit and veggies and the oatmeal only succeeded in turning you into an IED. But you could've tried a little bit harder. For example, you could've presented yourself in less freaky ways or perhaps shown your true colors gradually and you could've spared Pig's new jean shorts, an innocent party trying to do her job. You've scared Pig and you sure as hell scared the custodial staff.

But let's try to move past this. We've got to work together for a few more years so compromise is key. And that after that, Pig willing, I'd like to introduce you to my friend, Potty.

No reply necessary.

Thanks,
Mama Pig

cc: Papa Pig