Let Me Introduce You

Saturday, I spent most of my morning trying to do a week's worth of a little housework.

As I was cleaning around the house, I came to a startling realization.

Both of my children are pigs. With a capital P I G!

Let me introduce you to them.


Matthew and Daniel.

My pigs.

As I was trying to make my way through their pig stys bedrooms (without breaking my neck) I was reminded of a very funny Bill Cosby stand up comedy routine, where he talked about his mother's remarks about the condition that she found his bedroom in when he was a little boy. Here's what he said she would say when she walked into his room.

My mother was an authority on pig stys. She would say, "Just look at this mess! This is a pig sty! This is the worst looking pig sty that I have ever seen."

Well, this may come as a shock to some of you, but I, too, am an authority on pig stys. Although after years of living with pigs children this is really not very surprising at all.

And Saturday what I saw in their rooms, in my humble authoritative opinion, was just about as bad as pig stys can get.

I think.

I hope.

I pray.

Please, God.



Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a lot a tiny bit, but if you have ever lived with pigs children, then you know what I mean.

Some days I think it would be easier to move. I'm just saying.