“Oh Mother dear
I greatly fear,
My mittens I have lost!”
“You lost your mittens?
You naughty kitten!
Then you shall have no pie!”
It’s a little embarrassing to admit, but I have lost my third mitten in as many months. First, my hand-knit Oma mitten went astray (quite a tragedy, really), then an emergency substitute (that I had grown attached to rather quickly), and on Wednesday, another. Apparently they just don’t like staying in my pockets. Yesterday, I went to buy another pair, but, since spring has almost sprung (although there is still a nip in the air), there weren’t many to be found. I have started wearing one mitten from my second pair, and one from my third. I don’t think anybody has noticed….
I accept mitten donations. Either that or Rod has threatened to tie them together- and to me- with string.
3 comments:
I don't think that it's because you lost your mittens that you don't get any pie. It seems more likely that it's because you don't have an oven.
Maybe you'll find your mittens someday. Wouldn't that be neat?
More pictures, please!
tsk tsk. worse than grade six students!
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