It was July fourth a few years back and I had amazing plans for the day. My “Who Res,” Laverne had invited me over for a BBQ and swim followed by an evening of illegal fireworks in her backyard. Like any good mother would do, I packed my son a swim bag, slapped some sun screen and swim trunks on him before dressing myself and loading the car. Once everything was set, I buckled my baby, PJ, in his seat and headed out to Laverne’s. The traffic across the Las Vegas strip was horrible and it took us a good hour to travel the fifteen miles to her house. When we finally made it, I was in a shitty mood and ready to cuss her out. Lucky for her, she was prepared for my attitude.
“Hey, Bitch!” Laverne shrieked when she opened up the front door, handing me a huge jar filled with margarita. “It’s a ‘skinny!’ I found the recipe online, taste it!”
“I love you!” I said as I sat my son down on the carpet. “Oh my God! this is amazing!”
“I know, right? It’s mostly tequila! Mixed with just the juice from half a lime and some Sweet and Low!” she explained. “The kids are in the pool already, if you want to bring PJ out. I have some cool new floaties for the kids, they even have canopies attached!”
I looked out the window and into to the pool to see six other babies all bobbing around in those damn things. It was like Club Med for midgets. Our friend Tangerae’ was in the pool surrounded by them.
*Listen, I know what you are thinking, but I will have you know that she’s not that much of a slut, some of them are adopted.
I picked PJ back up and headed towards the patio door. I barely got it open when a mammoth beast came charging in my direction. Out of fear, I shrieked, dropping my jar of mommy juice onto the pavement. The jug shattered, spraying the concrete with glass and tequila.
“What the hell is that?” I asked Laverne, backing into the house and closing the screen door behind me.
“That’s Mr. Wiggles!”
“Mr. Wiggles! He’s a pot belly pig. I’m watching him for the neighbor while he is out of town,” she explained.
“Does your neighbor own a farm, Laverne?”
“No, he lives in that house right there,” she said pointing. “Pigs make great pets, like dogs. He’s actually really friendly.”
“He’s HUGE! I thought pet pigs were supposed to be small and pink, like Wilbur! That thing looks like it belongs in a swamp! Or even better, a slaughter house. Light the grill up Laverne, I’m suddenly in the mood for some bacon.”
“Come on, Asterisk. The kids like him.”
“Fine,” I said making a second attempt out the back door. “Make me another damn margarita!”
I walked PJ out to the pool and sat him in a baby water bungalow. Laverne kept her promise and within a few minutes I was gifted a second cocktail. It didn’t take long for the tequila to kick in and soon I was already in a better mood. Mr. Wiggles made his way over to the side of the pool and we pushed the kids near the ledge to visit with him. I decided to give him a little rub and he seemed to like it. Maybe Mr. Wiggles wasn’t so bad after all.
The back gate opened up and and our friend, Gonzo appeared. Like a watch dog from hell Mr. Wiggles went bounding for it. Along with the action came sounds. First a snort, then a grunt and I swear to Christ, he even started to howl. Gonzo was as unsuspecting as I had been to Mr. Wiggles. Out of shear terror, he let out a scream like Mariah Carey before sprinting in our direction. Mr. Wiggles accepted the chase and followed Gonzo across the yard nipping at his heels. Gonzo jumped into the air and cannon balled straight into the pool, soaking me and all the babies.
Some of the children began to cry.
Laverne was just making her way back outside with a second round of drinks in hand and caught the action in full swing. She began laughing so hard a puddle was forming at her feet.
“Holy shit, Laverne! Are you pissing yourself?” I asked wide eyed.
“That’s disgusting!” Tangerae’ spat out.
“Do you need to borrow some of PJ’s swim diapers?” I asked.
“It’s not my fault you guys! That last pregnancy messed me up!” Laverne explained.
“Ya, I’ll say!” Gonzo concluded after his head had bobbed above the water.
“Like you are one to talk shit, Gonzo! Running from a piglet!” Tangerae’ came to Laverne’s defense.
“There’s nothing ‘lette’ about that mammel! He bit me! When the hell did you get a pig?” Gonzo asked.
I interrupted, “He’s the neighbors stupid pig and he made me drop my booze.” Then, looking over to Laverne, “By the way, you can clean that up too when you wash down your puddle.”
Gonzo climbed out of the pool and downed a giant margarita of his own. It must have gone through him pretty fast, because not long after, he headed towards the house to use the can. Mr. Wiggles got up and began following behind while snapping his jaw, in an attempt to bite him.
“Get this pig away from me!” Gonzo screamed, this time sounding more like Michael Jackson. He bolted towards the door as we all watched on and laughed.
We spent most of the afternoon swimming and drinking. Gonzo helped Laverne BBQ a ton of burgers for us on the grill. Mr. Wiggles sat idly by, staring at Gonzo like a piece of honey baked man-chop, attempting to attack him when ever he left Laverne’s side.
Once the sun was almost down, Laverne finally brought out the fire works. Each child was given a box of sparklers as Laverne and Gonzo set off the bigger of the party supplies. First they ignited a few bottle rockets followed by some color changing flowers. Next up was a Roman candle. Once it was lit, it began to spark and then shoot out tall twinkling flames.
We watched the sparks fly as we celebrated the independence of our country.
Mr. Wiggles must not have been feeling as joyous as we all were because before any of us knew what was going on, the pig had darted into the show and snatched the huge fire work up in his mouth. The over-sized candle began to singe his fur. Instead of dropping the damn thing, Mr. Wiggles started running in circles and screeching in fear.
He sounded like a boiling lobster but smelled more like a smoked ham.
Gonzo came to his rescue and literally body slammed into the beast, knocking him into the pool killing the flames.
Once again the commotion scared the kids. It was a chorus of screams and sobs, like something out of Columbine. I decided to put mine to bed and the other adults followed suit shortly there after.
Laverne eventually got sick of dealing with Mr. Wiggles and chained him up to a tree.
It was now grown up time and we all indulged in what was left of the tequila. I passed out not long after.
At three am I was wide awake with a hangover. My eyes were blurry from my fuzzy contact lenses. I tried rubbing them clear too no avail.
Thinking I would sleep much better in my own bed, and wanting relief from my burning eyes, I tiptoed into Lavern’s kid’s room. Leaving off the light, I reached into the middle of the pile of sleeping babies and pulled out one snoring PJ.
After loading him and our belongings into the car, I made my way back, the 15 miles. Once we were home I tucked PJ into his crib and fell asleep myself.
Around 6:00 am I was awakened by my phone ringing. I looked at the caller ID to see that it was Laverne. Annoyed, I shut off the damn thing off.
At 8 am I awoke to the sound of a baby crying. I got up, made a bottle and then entered my sons room.
That’s when I realized it.
He wasn’t my kid.
I TOOK HOME THE WRONG BABY!
I ran into the bedroom and turned my phone back on. I had 17 voice mails, all from Laverne’s husband, and HE WAS PISSED.
Just then there was a knock on my door. It was Laverne. She was holding PJ.
Laverne thought the mix up was hilarious, Her husband, however did not.
I wasn’t allowed back to their house until her son was old enough to yell, “Help! I’m being kidnapped!”
Laverne’s neighbor was convinced that Laverne had tried to BBQ Mr. Wiggles, due to the burns on his face. Mr. Wiggles wasn’t allowed back to Laverne’s house until he learned to say, “Help! I’m being eaten.”
Which he never did.