When I was little, mice were my favorite animal. I even had a toy mouse I carried everywhere. (Incidentally, should any one know the name of a children's book where a class of children all make mice from buts of fabric and name them after themselves, I'd be eternally grateful). How has this love of mice been repaid? Well I think it's safe to say that my love of them has not been returned.
We've been invaded by them from time to time in the last couple of years, which to be honest is a pain. But the worst mouse "attack" came sometime just before Anja arrived. I've made all of my children a beautiful crochet shawl, each a different design, with the thought they could keep them as they grow older. Anja's was sitting ready in a draw with a selection of other baby jumpers and cardigans knitted mostly by my Mum and me. After she was born I asked for the shawl to be brought to the hospital, so I could wrap her in it for the journey home. Only to be told that it had three holes and a number of tell tale black poo's scattered throughout it. Twelve weeks on, and I'm still in the process of remaking it for her :( Fortunately nothing else in the draw was harmed, but I gave it all a good wash.
I'm pretty sure that mice are not longer my favourite animal!
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