And so it goes...

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Hey piggy piggy

So it’s just about Iftar time and I’m laying on a couch/bed in the kiddy’s room, they’re a lot more tolerable than the “Iraq has gone to shit ever since the Americans” banter I hear among the adults outside. Susu Cute (Sarah, age 10) and Med school (Ahmed, age 9) are watching some show dubbed cool by god knows who.
I can’t stand the lameness and tuning it out proves to be difficult considering the rumbly in my tumbly. I’m twitching to violently take over the remote control and find something more complex but my conscience gets the better of me.
Where or when did the fountain of my youth dry up?
Though the crackling and tickling in my throat induced by mass consumption of pop rocks could possibly render me a tad on the hayfa side, it upsets me to think I haven’t squealed in delight at the site of a fruit rollup in the longest while.
Regardless…
Refusing to submit to the urge to use my age and “visitor status” as a means to coheres the youngins into changing the channel, I rummage through their stack of books instead.
I haven’t read a story with pretty pictures in ages and this is my ingenious idea to help pass the time. Isn’t it odd how “time goes by so slowly” , insert melody hits commercial here, when you’re aware of it.
And So I stumble on ….

This story was a delight to read. I absolutely loved it! It’s quirky and cheeky as ever.
I was left sympathizing with the poor wolf who apparently wanted nothing more in the world than to make a cake for his grandmother. He whole heartedly manages to convince me that the media once again are to blame for all that is evil in the world.
His story makes me question the whole “big bad” persona we’ve attached to the poor fellow’s name without even thinking twice. It’s unfortunate that wolves are bigger than piggies and that bigger animals tend to eat smaller ones, which often more than not tend to be cute and further down the food chain. With all that said it’s hardly a reason to make him into the villain.
Consumed by his cold and out of sugar the poor wolf sets out to find some sugar to finish baking the cake he’d started for his granny. As he arrives at the first piggy’s house he gets the sudden urge to sneeze and when he does he’s surprised to find that the straw house has collapsed and in the middle of it all lay a dead pig. Now ask yourself this question. How many times have you eaten something just because it’s unfair to the starving children of the world to let it go to waste? Wouldn’t you eat a perfectly plump pig if you were a carnivorous wolf?
With the wolf’s lunch covered and one pig dead he’s still in the predicament he started in. No sugar for the cake. So the story continues till he arrives at the brick house.
Misinformed by the media and what he’d heard about his brothers, the last pig insults the wolf’s grandmother.
So he flips out…. And in the middle of his temper tantrum the police arrive. He ends up behind bars, The last pig lives to tell the story embellishing here and there with the "huffing and puffing”and the”not by the hair on my chiny chin chin”. All the while the TV broadcasters are eating it all up and the truth is lost in the shuffle.

Baz tells it like it is...

"Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth."