Everything Has a Face

"Everything has a face." That's how daughter #1 put it. "When I walk to over this root, I see its face, I know it has a spirit. I'm seeing faces in a lot of stuff. Rocks. Trees. Clouds. The corn field. Everything has a face."

Of course . . . .

Both daughters were in the hothouse with husband. Hothouse is near pig pen. Daughter #2 went out to pet the pig. She petted its snout and scratched its ears and talked to it and told it how pretty it is and eventually sang it her song called Beautiful Pig:

Beautiful Pig
you have three-ee stripes
Beautiful Pig
your tail is cururly

And so on.

Daughter #1, and the same one who sees that everything has a face, rushes out of hothouse and says, "I'll sing the second verse!"

Beautiful Pig
we'll shoot you in the head
Beautiful Pig
blood will run out your nose

And so on.

I guess she's like me in that she calls it like she sees it and has that oddly well developed sense of humor.