When Lilly was born, one of the first things I wanted to know, after boy or girl of course, was "is she big?"
"Oh yes, she's big," the nurse told me, "she's a little pork chop."
My Mom loved that. She said she was going to call Lilly pork chop, until everyone said it would give Lilly a complex. (I wasn't really worried about it, at least not now. Maybe when she's 13....) Still, she had to do something to commemorate the cute name the nurse gave her. So she got her the pink pig.
Lilly loves her pig. She chews on it. And wrestles with it. And when I lay her down for a nap, I always pull the pig's curly tail to make it play music. She gets a big grin and settles right down. It's the first toy she's really shown an interest in. Up until now it's mostly been a love affair with the ceiling fan.
Even if I don't call her pork chop, I can't help loving the rolls on her arms and legs. Perfect strangers ask to squeeze her thighs. You just can't help loving a pudgy baby. They are so cute. But, it only lasts for a while. Think about it, baby pigs are adorable, but big ones, not so much. So enjoy it while it lasts, Lilly, my little pork chop.