Friday, November 09, 2007

When Angels Sing and Pigs Fly

At 4:53 in the morning, one doesn't expect to see a heard of pigs in their kitchen. Flipping on the light, I stifled a yell as I looked at the serene pink faces of the pigs, who had apparently been waiting patiently for quite some time.

"Hello," one of the pigs greeted me politely. "Good morning."

"Good morning," I said, looking at the pigs suspiciously. "There's no grass in the house. But you can have all the tasty grass you like outside." I gestured to the patio door. The pigs looked at the backyard, and looked back at me. Apparently, they didn't want my grass.

"I do hate to criticize," a small pig said primly, "But your grass is not tasty. It is quite crunchy."

"But all the grass is crunchy!" a third pig added quickly. "Not just yours."

"What do you want then?" I asked, confused.

"May we have your bananas?" a pig asked, looking longingly at the fruit basket on the hutch.

"The bananas look very tasty," the second pig agreed.

"Quite ripe," the third pig smiled.

"Sure," I said, dumbfounded. I put the basket on the floor. The pigs looked at the bananas, then looked at me.

"Oh," I said, after a moment. I picked up the basket and took out the bananas. I cut the bananas into small slices and put a few slices on each plate, then scattered the plates on the floor. The pigs quickly dove into the bananas and chewed happily.

"Yum," the first pig cooed.

"Delicious," the second pig agreed.

"Thank you very much," the third pig added politely. After they had finished eating, they very politely nudged their plates into a pile on the floor with their snouts.

"Thank you for breakfast," the pigs said happily.

"I'm sorry I didn't have more bananas," I apologized.

"May we ask one more favor?" the first pig asked.

'Sure," I said.

"Will you open the door for us, please?"

"Sure," I said again, not bothering to wonder how the pigs had gotten in the house. I had learned that there were just some things one shouldn't think about. I opened the screen door and the pigs quietly clomped their way onto the patio. With a final smile and twitch of their little curled tails, they flew away into the morning light. I shook the head and shut the door, watching them fade into the distance. When I turned back to the kitchen table, a tiny Christmas ornament lay on the place mat. It was of a pig with wings, dressed as an angel. I wasn't sure if she might want bananas, too.