This past Christmas, I was worried.
Really worried... about a small gift I planned to stuff into Daughter's stocking. A pair of woollen mittens in the likeness of racoons.
Yeah, you read that right. Racoons. With big ears, telltale "eye masks" and black pompom noses.
By the way, my Daughter is 17. Not seven.
I couldn't help myself; when I discovered them among other fleece-lined woollen cuties - green bulbous-eyed frogs, snakes with long braided tongues, brown monkeys, fuzzy teddy bears... well, I couldn't resist.
But then I worried she would be crushed on Christmas morning, thinking I still considered her a child. I almost didn't give them to her.
But I did.
And I needn't have been concerned. She loves her racoon mitts and wears them constantly.
I liked them too... so much in fact, that I wanted some to cover my very own cold hands. So after Christmas I treated myself to a set - but not racoons.
Then a few days ago I acquired a second pair. This time some sad-eyed skunks (because you can never have too many mitts when you live in Winnipeg).
It's easy to tell that these last ones are, in fact, skunks. Okay, easIER to tell when they aren't being smooched by a cat.
But I couldn't figure out what the heck my first pair were... I thought they were cute with beady eyes and long floppy ears. But I had thrown out the tag that revealed what they were supposed to be.
I finally DID discover what they are; but let me ask you. What do YOU think they look like?
Oh, and if you're going to tease me about wearing kiddie mittens... well, in my defence, if they weren't meant for grownups, they wouldn't make them in adult sizes.
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