We Eat Pigs

One morning during my last pregnancy, I decided to cook bacon for breakfast. This is a rare occurrence in our home since I am fairly concerned about health, except for when I'm pregnant and need mass quantities of all types of processed meats.

My lovely daughter, Lisa Simpson, pulled up a chair to help me. I'm not sure what assistance a 5 year old can provide with throwing bacon in a pan and watching it fry, but back to my story...

"Is that an animal?" Sayde asked. Uh oh, I knew where this was going.
"Yes, it is."
"What kind of animal?"
"A pig."
"A PIG??" She silently considers this for the remainder of the time it took to cook the bacon.

Then my son, Captain Caveman, came over. Apparently, he overheard that I was cooking pigs and wanted to come see for himself.

I picked up a piece of bacon and offered it to Sayde first as a reward for her help.
"Ew, nooo!" was her response.

So, I then offered it to Connor who held it in his hand and looked it over. "This is a pig?", he asked.
"Yup."
Without another word, he took a bite. He looked up at me and said, "Mom?"
"Yes, Connor?"

"You're the BEST Mom in the whole world."

Connor and I enjoyed our breakfast to Sayde's rap: "That's a pig, you're eating a pig. That's a pig, you're eating a pig. That's a pig, you're eating a pig. That's a pig, you're eating a pig. That's a pig, you're eating a pig."