|Who says pigs are so smart?|
Brought my big green bed so I'd be comfy, my own food, and my big self and Mary gave me an enthusiastic greeting. Like all great hoteliers, she recognized me, even though it's been awhile.
Spent some time sunning, with drinks provided by the attentive staff.
The only hitch came during the spa treatment, which I'm pretty sure I didn't schedule. That might have come from leaving the arrangements to Mom. Anyway, I checked out the tub, which while perfectly clean, would have meant that I would have had to become perfectly clean. So I pulled a No, David! (remember that scene in the David Shannon book where the boy takes off, without a stitch on?) and skedaddled out of there.
Mom reminded me of another picture book, Pirates Don't Take Baths, in which a reluctant pig finally is persuaded by his mother to come clean. He imagines he's searching for underwater treasure, but it would take some treasure for me to plunge in. Instead, I'll go the Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's Won't-Take-a-Bath Cure route (remember, the girl grows radishes on her dirty skin?). Conveniently, it's planting time.