Marike turned seven and chose a pioneer theme for her party. Our kids wanted to do a piñata again, and somehow the idea of slaughtering a pig leapt to mind. It seemed like such a pioneer-ish thing to do.
It wasn't until after we made the pig piñata that several of us started having second thoughts. Would we really want to swing at this thing in cold blood?
"It isn't real," I reminded the kids as we slit Porky open and filled him with goody bags. We patched him back up. The die was cast.
Sunday afternoon came and we lined up those sweet, innocent little girls, and they all got a turn whacking at
Porky this painted blob of paper mache.
They joined in readily enough, but after the piñata had been punched in and plundered, one the guests grabbed Porky's poor broken frame and declared that she was taking him home.
"You'll be fine," she assured Porky over and over.
"I'll take care of you."
I think this guest (and maybe all the guests) thoroughly regretted ever taking a swing at Porky.
I felt pretty bad.
Thankfully my helpers, A and J, are pretty good at the whole birthday party thing. Joe did his magic show again, and Anneke performed surgery on Porky, taping him back together as nicely as possible.
eager volunteers
After cupcakes we all went to church. Including Porky.
