Missing – One Mouse. (*Warning – emotional post alert*)

As you, dear reader, will know, a love affair started in this house around Christmas time. These charming little mice did bewitch all of our hearts, but for Pink the love was total. This is her on Christmas Day night, poorly and restless in Mummy & Daddy’s bed:

And so the love began. Mimi and Mustafa (named by Gangy (Granny) on a whim, and apparently unable to change it to anything else) have been constant night time bed companions, and constant day time play companions too. They smoosh happily in her bag to accompany her on the school runs. They have ousted the usual plastic residents of the Happyland play village. They are apparently very partial to a cheese sandwich for lunch (grated please).

So much so that when that bad bad lady at Armstrong Ward wrote to me about a new batch, the family simply had to be added to. A bigger boy mouse was received, pronounced ‘Daddy Mouse!’ and gladly welcomed into the Mousefold. Bedtimes changed a little – now we had three mini beds for Daddy, Mimi and N-nuffa (woe betide anyone else calling him anything other than Mustafa, mind). Mice had to be called to bed, kissed on the nose and tucked up before Pink would receive the same treatment…

But. Tragedy has befallen our little mouse trio. Sadness flows where once merriment lived.

Mustafa is missing.

At first, we thought ‘oh, he’ll turn up’. The first bed time was hard – the Mice family was sadly tucked in, and the empty bed stroked wistfully. Big, tired eyes gazed up, a small lip wobbled. “Where’s N-nuffa, Mummy?”

Glib promises were made that he was off on an adventure, that we would find him in the morning.

A second day went past, with a more thorough search. A second bedtime with a sad little empty bed made ready for the missing Mustafa Mouse.

A sad little hand slept clutching his blanket for another two nights.

Yesterday I noticed that Daddy mouse and Mimi mouse were lying carelessly on the bedroom floor. It seems that an incomplete mice family is too sad to play with. Bedtime last night there were no mice in the bed. Six o’ clock this morning I was woken by sad girl calling quietly for her N-nuffa.

We have overturned the toybox, we have rummaged down the back of the sofa, we have checked in the shoe box, we have peered, poked and prodded into every dark corner we can find.

Where oh where oh where is Mustafa?

Author: Laura

A 70's child, I’ve been married for a Very Long Time, and appear to have made four children, and collected one large and useless dog along the way. I work, I have four children, I have a dog… ergo, I do not do dusting or ironing. I began LittleStuff back in (gulp) 2004. I like huge mugs of tea. And Coffee. And Cake. And a steaming cone of crispy fresh fluffy chips, smothered in salt and vinegar. #healthyeater When I grow up I am going to be quietly graceful, organised and wear lipstick every day. In the meantime I *may* have a slight butterfly-brain issue.

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  1. Oh, oh, oh!
    Poor Pink!
    We too have a N-nuffa, although ours is called Magic. Was delivered by Father Christmas, and is, every night, carefully tucked up in his box (did yours come in a giant matchbox-type box too?) and laid carefully at the side of Lizzy-Lu’s bed.
    Too precious.
    If things were different, I’d willingly parcel him up and send him your way.
    Magic could re-invent himself as N-nuffa, I’m sure.
    But I think she’d miss him.
    Have you looked down the cushions on the sofa?
    Behind the telly?
    Not under the bed?
    Under anyone else’s bed?
    Gawd, where the hell IS he?

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  2. Oh, no – Magic must stay (yes, they all came in matchboxes – ours have been temporarily relegated to Waybuloo houses).
    And yes, stripped all cushions, checked behind the TV, under all beds, IN all beds…
    The stoopid thing is that he hasn’t been out the house recently, so we KNOW he’s hiding. Somewhere…
    And of course, he’s of the rarest, can’t-actually-be-bought-anywhere kind of baby Maileg Mouse…

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