I went on an outing with PIC. The only photo of the night that I can share is below.
After the both of us had a particularly bad week, we determined a girl night was in store.
After singing Beyoncé to the top of our lungs (as all girl nights SHOULD begin), the conversation turned to being humble, and then being patient (two qualities I sadly have too much of?) Then, I spotted the most perfect pig. Ever. She was like me: in a dress looking quite humble and patient. PIC dutifully stopped traffic as I snapped the picture. God bless her for her patience with me!
This is the point my PIC was likely wondering why I was oddly mute. Feeling quite close to the pig, I named her Priscilla. Why? It seemed appropriate. I think she sent me her name telepathically because we ARE so close. I began to wonder why Priscilla was grey. Here is the conversation in my head:
Me: Aren’t all little pigs usually pink?
Brain: That would clash with her pink dress.
Me: Oh… wait. Is THAT why her dress is pink?
Brain: Oh dear. Maybe she was born grey and insists on wearing pink to fit in!
Me: Oh God! Poor Priscilla!
Brain: THAT must be why she is patient and humble….because she doesn’t fit in!
Me: Priscilla. I must buy you, paint you pink, and then let you pick out any color dress you want.
Brain: Wait. Maybe she LIKES standing out as a grey pig.
Me: No. She doesn’t. If she did, she would not be so humble. She would have worn a color less unassuming than pink, perhaps a nice Chartreuse or Persimmon. And, she would be sporting fabulous shoes.
Brain: Why isn’t she wearing shoes? She clearly walks upright.
Me: Damn them. Someone has stolen her Jimmy Choo’s.
Brain: And her Birkin.
Me: That would certainly make me humble….and patient if said assailant was holding them in front of me. Perhaps Priscilla IS in fact a diva?
Brain: She is wearing pearls….We are too smart for our own good. We are on to you Priscilla.
Little did I know this would turn out to be an omen for the rest of the evening.