Pardon My French.

Remember yesterday when I said I was feeling crafty? Well, I was. And so I made a pig. A tiny purple paisley pig. I had the grand idea of sewing an awesome little pig with wings and attaching my sister's birthday gift (money! I aim to please) to said piggy. Cute, right? Well...

Check out his snaggle tooth!

I made the piggy. It took me William's entire afternoon nap plus some time after he was in bed, but I can't leave a sewing project unfinished. Through my frustration sweats I chanted, "Must...finish...paisley pig." Does anyone else sweat while using a sewing machine? I love my machine, but I drop the F-bomb more times while sewing than I did while in labor. Go figure.

Needless to say, my piggy did not turn out to be the enchanting creature of my crafty dream. My piggy looked like it might have been a plaything for one of the children of the corn. I wanted him to be so whimsical, I thought with frustration after I finished stuffing him and sewing his piggy patootie closed. And then it hit me.

Have you read this post? Well, please do, otherwise my story will make no sense to you. I am trying to be more resourceful, and the metal wire poking out of my piggy's tail makes him utterly unsuitable to be a baby's plaything (well, the metal wire and his creepy snaggle tooth snout), so I decided to make this little pig my 5 foot tall chicken.

Have I ever mentioned that one of my top five favorite people ever is named Brandi, and she just happens to live directly across the street from me? She'd been trapped inside with a sick kiddo all day yesterday and was exhausted, so I did what any sane and thoughtful person would do. I texted her at 10 p.m., just after I finished my pig, and asked if she was still awake. She was! I grabbed my piggy and a loving handwritten note...

and crept across the street in my yoga shorts and Don's zombie t-shirt to place this fun surprise on her front porch. I thought the eerie mix of detailed sewing by hand mixed with major sewing errors would make her laugh. What's funny is that when I got to her front yard, she was trying to hide behind the huge live oak in her front yard so that she could jump out and scare me! I love having friends like her. We laughed about the pig and swang (it feels so country to say "swang") for a while before I walked back into my house filled with two sleeping boys, one 29 and one 13 months, and went to sleep dreaming of a more refined and whimsical pig, that I just might have time to whip up before my sister's Jersey Shore themed party this Saturday.