Pigs
Do you ever wish you could be a kid again? Run barefoot in the rain without caring if you drag mud into the house. Wish on a star and think it can really come true. Have problems that can be fixed by a cookie.
That is one of the gifts of children. They can cause you to take a deep breath and stop to look at the way a line of ants is marching across the pavement right in front of you only you were so busy you almost missed it. Life, in the end, is full of those freeze-frame moments we take out later and examinet, moments when we looked at our kids mid-laugh and just felt our hearts melt.
But by far, one of the best thing about kids when you are a writer is the way they can get you to think outside the box. They just look at things differently.
As we contemplate maybe relocating, I've told the kids it's so we can get some land, maybe a horse.
"What about a pig?" asked my second child.
"A pig."
"Yeah," piped up his sister. "Can we get a pig?"
"Like . . . a big pig or one of those little ones?"
"A little one," said son.
"Yeah, sure. If you want." What the hell, I thought.
"We EACH want one," said sister.
"Two pigs."
"Yes."
"OK."All right, so I had just said we could get two pigs (oldest child wants a car, not a pig; baby is too small to talk . . . I imagine by the time he is old enough, we'll be talking a goat or something). Anyway, I thought that was the end of it. Until time came to discuss KISSING pigs.
Yes, in the way kids just meander in conversations, I overheard the two future pig owners discussing whether, indeed, they would KISS their pigs.
"I'd kiss a pig any day," said one.
"Me, too. Like . . . I'd kiss 'em like five times."
OK . . . so when I write dialogue that involves children, I love to remember stuff like this. Because I couldn't make this up if I tried.
That is one of the gifts of children. They can cause you to take a deep breath and stop to look at the way a line of ants is marching across the pavement right in front of you only you were so busy you almost missed it. Life, in the end, is full of those freeze-frame moments we take out later and examinet, moments when we looked at our kids mid-laugh and just felt our hearts melt.
But by far, one of the best thing about kids when you are a writer is the way they can get you to think outside the box. They just look at things differently.
As we contemplate maybe relocating, I've told the kids it's so we can get some land, maybe a horse.
"What about a pig?" asked my second child.
"A pig."
"Yeah," piped up his sister. "Can we get a pig?"
"Like . . . a big pig or one of those little ones?"
"A little one," said son.
"Yeah, sure. If you want." What the hell, I thought.
"We EACH want one," said sister.
"Two pigs."
"Yes."
"OK."All right, so I had just said we could get two pigs (oldest child wants a car, not a pig; baby is too small to talk . . . I imagine by the time he is old enough, we'll be talking a goat or something). Anyway, I thought that was the end of it. Until time came to discuss KISSING pigs.
Yes, in the way kids just meander in conversations, I overheard the two future pig owners discussing whether, indeed, they would KISS their pigs.
"I'd kiss a pig any day," said one.
"Me, too. Like . . . I'd kiss 'em like five times."
OK . . . so when I write dialogue that involves children, I love to remember stuff like this. Because I couldn't make this up if I tried.
posted by Erica Orloff at 4:35 PM
2 Comments:
My sister also went through a pig phase. Years later, the words, "I love pigs!" are still magic-markered on the headboard of her bed.
crissa!
LOL!!!!! I love, love, love that story. Well . . . my kids are still in the pig phase. I kind of worry. Where do you go AFTER a pig? A llama? Pack mules? What?
Post a Comment
<< Home