25 Days of Christmas

 

Do I Look Fat?

This morning, mom helped me on the big bed with her and dad.  I was sleeping so well – just snoring away.  Then mom decided she *had* to go to work – why mom – why?  So I snorted my thoughts on that which woke up daddy.  Then it led to why is Bacon on the bed stealing my blankets?  Come on dad.  We’ve been down this road before.  It’s what I do.  Snorts with piggy laughter.

Then dad had the nerve to call me fat.  Not pleasantly plump.  Not fluffy.  Not big.  Fat.  FAT.  Really dad?  Are we naming names now?  You want to hear what I call you?  NOT THE MOMMY!  Snorts.

 

Don Juan – I Despise You!

I hate Don Juan.  There you go.  That elf needs to be stopped NOW… like yesterday.  He is evil pure and simple.  I woke up this morning all bright eyed and bushy tailed.  I stretched my hooves, yawned and tooted.  What?  You don’t do that in the mornings?  I then rolled over to look at my picture of Miss Piggy on my night stand and got the shock of my little piggy life.  My Miss Piggy picture was gone and in it’s place was this hideous, nightmarish joke from Don Juan.  I squealed so loudly that I think Nana heard me all the way up the street.  The nerve of this so called elf for Santa.  I’m writing the head elf of the Union.  This can’t go on anymore.  Shivers and looks in every corner of my bedroom.