Happy Piggies

She named them Binky and Bubbles. It seemed cute at first, but those guinea pigs weren't impressed. I'd done nothing to lessen their embarrassment, so they were out to ruin me, one sleepless night at a time. During the day, when I worked, they were absolute darlings. Uncharacteristically quiet, one wouldn't suspect them of anything. And just when I'd consider taking a nap, they'd recommence the squeaking and the scratching.

I hated them.

My daughter, however, adored them. They were a present from her vengefully sadistic father, and she claimed they were happiest in her room. Normally I'd argue, but not this time. After the divorce, I figured she deserved some leniency, and if that meant I had to let those damn pigs ruin everything, then so be it.

The unhappy mommy was the least of anyone's worries. It was all about the happy child, and ultimately, the happy piggies.

(The title was a complete rip-off of Chittz's GTalk status message. but in my defense, she was being my...muse? :P More microfiction, by the way. This time, I'm down to 149 words. Oh. Yeah.)