Page 88 of Santa Daddies
Within minutes, we were all back in the dining room. While the Bigs carefully set the pigs at their places aside, the Littles arranged theirs into circles to “play”.
“I’m guessing there’s a story behind this?” Phillip asked after everyone’s initial hunger had been sated.
“That’s Marcie’s department,” I said. “I’ll let her tell it.” I expected her to launch into how her order had gone awry, but I should have known better.
“Well, our story begins a long, long, time ago in a kingdom far, far away…”
Chapter Three
Marcie
“In a small town in Germany, a family of bakers was busy grinding almonds into a paste with corn syrup, sugar and an egg. Once it was a dough, they’d press the paste into molds and voila!Glucksschweinwere born!”
“Gluckess what?” Henry asked.
“Glucksschwein,”I repeated. It’s German for ‘lucky pig’.”
“Awww, that’s so cute,” Jenna said, reaching out to pat the head of one of her pigs.
“Go on, tell us more,” Emma encouraged from where she’d scooted to the edge of her chair, her eyes wide.
“Where was I? Oh, right, lucky pig. Anyway, every Christmas people would make marzipan pigs and other desserts to share. They were so popular the tradition spread from country to country until one day, it even reached America when a family from Spain sailed across the ocean blue.”
Chuckles had me looking up to see Daddy exchanging a look with Uncle Leo and Aunt Tilda. I felt a little guilty for drawing the story out, but then Daddy smiled at me.
“Go ahead, babygirl. What happened next?”
“Well, it turns out that at the time almonds were hard to find, so they tried to substitute vanilla to make their marzipan dough. However, being Americans, a family from New York didn’t think the result tasted all that good. They decided to add something truly magical to make them so much better. And it does! Now these pigs aren’t made with almonds or vanilla. Instead they are made with peppermint which is most definitely a Christmas flavor.”
“Like Peppermint Mocha Lattes!” Jenna contributed.
“Exactly! I’m always begging Daddy to get me one the moment Starbucks announces they’re back. I love those,” Chloe piped in.
“Hardly exactly the same,” Henry scoffed. “You can’t drink a pig.”
He’d always been far more pragmatic than the rest of us, but I was pretty sure we could bring him around.“True, but what’s even more important is that you can’t smash a latte, well, not without making a humungous mess,” I said. “But you absolutely must smash a peppermint piggie to smithereens or else it doesn’t work.”
Every pair of eyes swiveled to land on me like I’d suddenly sprouted a second head, or maybe morphed into some sort of monster. It probably didn’t help assure them of my sanity when I started to giggle at the way they all looked absolutely horrified.
“And here I believed you thought venison was awful,” Daddy said.
“I don’t think I like this story.” Emma’s displeasure showed as she crossed her arms across her chest and scooted back in her chair.
This wasn’t going the way I’d planned. “It’s not a bad thing, it’s just what you have to do!”
“I’m not smashing my piggies!” Jenna said.
“Me either!” Dawn shouted, “Mommy, save yours!”
“No, no! Wait, let me explain!” Tears threatened as I watched my friends scooping all the pigs within reach off the table and into their laps. I turned to where my Daddy sat. “I didn’t mean… that’s not…”
“Shhh, it’s okay, babygirl.” He pushed back his chair and I shot out of mine and into his arms. “I’ve got you,” he assured me as he wrapped his arms around me after pulling me onto his lap. “Let’s settle down. I promise there is no way that Marcie would ever want anyone to smash the pigs. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.”
I lifted my head from where I’d pressed it into his neck and wailed, “That’s just it, Daddy. You do have to smash them!”
He looked momentarily shocked but then became my rock yet again. “Okay, but there has to be a good reason, right?”
A ray of light shone through the black of my clenched eyelids. They flew open and I nodded. “Yes! That’s when the magic happens!”
