Hog Farm, Chapter 6: It’s a Good Idea to Bring Home a Baby Pig!

My two boys, ages 5-1/2 and almost 3, knew that I was going to visit a baby pig farm and were very excited. My older son wanted me to wear pink so that I would fit in with the pigs. They both wanted to go with me. I told them it was just for moms and they eventually relented; but, not without one final request. “Will you pleeeeease bring home a baby pig for us? Please?”

All day, the day before the tour, I heard reasons why it’s a good idea to bring home a baby pig. All day, my counter was, “A baby pig! Where would a baby pig sleep at our house?” “What are you going to feed a baby pig?” “Don’t you think it will miss its mama?” As I was putting them to bed, after hours of this, in my best effort to get them to sleep so that I could get to bed early for an early alarm clock of my own, I said, “We’ll see.” I was no longer looking for a dialog, it certainly wasn’t “yes,” but it wasn’t “no.”

So, when I came home from my hog farm tour, my 5 yr-old rushed me at the door, looking hopefully for there to be a cute little pink pig in my arms. “Where’s the baby pig,” he wanted to know in all seriousness. Fortunately, for me, the Illinois Pork Producers Association gave us a goodie bag full of pork literature and fun things for our kids like coloring books, a couple of DVDs, and – best of all – cute colorful erasers in the shape of a pig. That was my way out. Trying to not disappoint while also eliciting some enthusiasm, I said, “I didn’t bring home a real pig, but I did bring home a special surprise for you and your brother.” He took the bait. His eyes lit up and he asked, “What is it?” I showed him his pig and he loved it; except, he still wanted to know why we couldn’t get a pig.

I showed him my pictures of newborn piglets, 2-week old piglets, and a picture of me holding one. He thought they were cute. Then, I showed him pictures of the mama pig – all 400 pounds of her – and explained that in just 6 months the baby pig I was holding in the picture would take up half of his bedroom. I could see the gears turning in his mind.

That wasn’t quite the end. “And where would we put the poop,” I asked. “The poop really stinks,” I added. That is where our conversation about getting a baby pig ended, at least for a while.

Thanks, Illinois Pork Producers, for the erasers, they’re great; and the boys are playing pig farm.