While I would love to say that Princess Piggy Poo has my undivided attention every moment I spend with her, the truth is there are times when I’m multitasking while she’s hopping around on me and serenading me with her vocalizations. Sometimes Princess Piggy Poo punishes me for my aloofness with a nip to my nip, as my sister heard when I was on the phone with her and suddenly screamed, “Holy shit, she bit my boob!”
It was after that occasion that I put two and two together as to why so many of my t-shirts now have tiny little holes dotting them. Princess Piggy Poo isn’t just hopping around when I’m not paying attention—she’s biting my clothes and yanking up and down until she leaves her mark.
When I looked in the mirror at these little dots, it transported me back to when I was a kid and all my shirts had little orange spots from spaghetti dinners every Sunday. Back then those orange dots were an announcement of my heritage—that I was proud to be a well-fed Italian. I guess now those little holes pronounce that I’m happy to be a guinea pig momma.