Pretend mouse

It was a big day yesterday.

Hazel was wandering around the back yard with a big dry leaf in her hand, chatting to it. I saw her from inside the house, and my feet walked outside. I was driven by a vague feeling that I needed to hassle her a bit.

Is that really a leaf? That is a very long stalk. That leaf is kind of mouse-shaped. Like, actually, really mouse-shaped.

By the time I was on the deck, Hazel had come over to show me. Thankyou, feet, you brought me to somewhere that I needed to be.

Hazel said, "I have a pretend mouse. It doesn't move."

I said, "Oh ah well that actually is a real mouse, but it's a dead one. That's why it doesn't move. And, you know what, we don't play with dead creatures. Here, let's pop that on the ground right here, and go inside to wash hands. After you play with a mouse, a dead one or an alive one, you must wash your hands. Let's get a bit more soap on your hands. And here's the scrubbing brush, I'm scrubbing your hands, wow there's a lot of soap here, you will be really clean!" And so on.


Later that day, she covered herself in dog shit, but that's a story that I'll let Trudi tell.