I’ve always held a certain fondness for mice. Not the stuck-in-the-walls-scratching kind, but those of make-believe (though, I must admit, my brother had a pet rat when we were growing up who I absolutely adored; I would take a pet rat over a little yippy dog any day of the week, hands down). Though I’m not sure where this affinity originated, I’m thinking it might have something to do with Santa Mouse, by Michael Brown. It was a book my mom read to me each year at Christmas.
So, imagine my delight when I opened the package from Sweden and found this …
Seriously. A handsome Swedish Christmas Mouse. Can you even stand it? I, obviously, cannot …
And so, this Christmas, if you please
Beneath the tree that’s in your house,
Why don’t you leave
a piece of cheese?
You know who’ll thank you?