For anyone who doesn't know, I own a red herring crocheted pet mouse named Bertrand.
I take pictures of Bertand and write stories for children about Bertrand. Bertrand even has his own Instagram page, which we kinda share.
Meaning, I make him follow my friends (although all the posts are about him), while he follows pages that make sense to him (animals, children's books, other crocheted animals, and mice).
The back story about "why" is too convoluted for here. And I usually confine Bertrand posts to his Instagram page. But sometimes, he has an experience so rich, I'll share it elsewhere, too.
Today is the tail of how my crocheted mouse had a better social life this weekend than I did.
Last week, Daniel's girlfriend surprised several of us with tickets for an afternoon on Chicago's Mystic Blue cruise ship.
She picked a Saturday I had previously announced as "free." Unfortunately, in the meantime, a doctor's appointment for the following Saturday was cancelled (by the doctor) and moved to Aug. 11. Making an appointment with this particular doctor is notoriously difficult. No way would I cancel.
But as the eleventh hour approached, I felt differently. I called to see if rescheduling was possible. It was - early October - but at least the new appointment was in 2018.
Now here's where it gets fun.
On my way to work on Thursday (I'm on foot, no worries), I texted Cindy and let her know I could "do" Saturday. to my surprise, she was a little disappointed and texted back, "I will have to break the news to Bertrand that he is uninvited though."
Really? She was giving my ticket to a fake mouse?
Still, I defended his right to party with us as a "stowaway." And Cindy came back with, "Please let him know that he will have to dress in casual stylish attire."
To make sure he did, Cindy brought him a bow tie.
Bertrand even shared my plate even though it had no cheese.
And he enjoyed the view. (Yes, he took off the bow tie. It was hot).
And his third trip to Chicago (but only his second one with me).
Well, this was enough to tucker out a real mouse, much less a pretend one.
That night, as I settled at my computer to work on copy for Monday's Herald-News, my older kids and some of their friends prepared to head out to Channahon's Three Rivers Festival.
But before they left, Timothy's girlfriend Jasmine came into my room.
"Can I take Bertand?" she asked.
And so, while I labored away at home, my pretend mouse headed out for party number two and his first Ferris wheel ride.
And then yesterday, he attended a church picnic at Channahon Community Park. And ate cheese to his little fake heart's content.
