My First Adventure

I first ventured out into the World of the Unknown Dining Room when I was about two months old. I had just been given my first sword. A beautiful shiny new needle. It must have been from a tailor's bag. Now I know you're wondering if giving a needle (quite a deadly weapon in the hands of a mouse)to a young mouse, is a good idea. I assure you, it is. Quite a good idea, I mean. Capital. Okay, where was I? Oh, yes, the Unknown Dining Room. Earlier that day I had been presented with my sword.

"Now, Felix," my mother cautioned, "be very careful with this. You may play with it, but it is mainly for your protection. Do you understand?"

I was too busy dueling with an imaginary foe to answer. We faced each other and I scowled fiercely at him. We circled each other, grim looks of determination on our faces.

"Felix!"

I jumped out of my fur. Figuratively, of course. That would be weird if I actually did it. As talented as we mice are, we cannot do such a thing. I turned to my mother and nodded. "Yes, Mother, I understand perfectly. Don't worry, if any harm comes to you, I will protect you with my life!" I ended this passionate declaration with an impressive thrust of my sword. I beamed at my mother. "See?"

She smiled weakly. "Just be careful, Felix. I don't want you to accidentally hurt someone." She wrung her hands, I mean, paws. "Oh, I told Gilbert we shouldn't have given such a thing to him," she murmured to herself. "He's too young for such a thing. He will hurt himself or someone else or break something. Oh, what should I do?"

My mother continued on in this vein for quite some time. I paid no attention to her thinking it was simply one if her "eccentric" spells. Father would never call it anything else, and he forbade us from using any other term. The one time we did, he became angrier than we had ever seen him. He did seem regrettable things that day. We soon learned our lesson. My father loved my mother too much to ever let even the slightest unkind thing be said about her. It wasn't that he didn't see her flaws, he did, he just couldn't bear to say them. They say love is blind, but I'm inclined to disagree. Love isn't blind. Love is about acknowledging each other's shortcomings and loving each other in spite of them. Just my opinion. Oh, would you look at the time? I must be on with my story. My deepest apologies.

I simply ignored her ramblings and continued to parry with my made up enemy. I lunged right and left, thrust up and down, waved my needle in elaborate circles. With intricate footwork, I danced around my opponent. He lunged at me, but I blocked the blow with a skillful flick of my hand. We continued to dance around each other till I found my opportunity. I thrust at his weak side. He blocked my sword with his and tried to push me to my knees. But I was stronger. I applied a strong, even pressure to my sword, causing him to sink to his knees in defeat.

I pumped my paw in delight. I had won! I had won! I ran around reenacting my masterful win. At last I tired. I looked at my mother, triumphant. She was still wringing her hands and talking to herself. My heart sank. She clearly had not seen my winning blow.

"Mother, did you see me win that duel?"

She jerked violently. Startled out of her trance, she stared at me, her eyes wide with fear. I was slightly scared. What had I done to frighten her?

"A duel?" she asked, her face drawn and white under her fur.

I quickly reassured her. "Just an imaginary one, Mama." I added the "mama" at the end to soften her. I had stopped calling her that a week after I was born. She missed it, and simply melted when I used it. I put it to good use now. I couldn't let her take my sword away. It seemed to work. Her face regained its color and she ruffled my fur.

"That's nice, darling. I'm glad you're having fun. Mind you, though, remember what I said. Please be very careful."

No sooner had the words left her mouth, when I spun around and speared a piece of cheese from the table next to her with my sword. This surprised her so much, she almost had a fainting spell. I was immediately contrite.

"I'm very sorry, Mama, that won't happen again. I promise." I popped the piece of cheese in my mouth. Mmmm. Brie, my favorite. I glanced at my mother, my cheeks bulging. "Would you like some? It's very good." I raised my sword to procure Mother a piece of cheese, but she stopped me with a cry.

"No, Felix, that's quite alright. I'm sure it's very good. I'm just not hungry right now. Please do not use your sword to grab food. You could get someone hurt." She sent me a warning glance. I knew I would have to be very careful with my sword. If I was too reckless, Mama would not hesitate to take it away. Even my father probably wouldn't be able to dissuade her.

My mother sighed. "What am I going to do with you? I'm going to rest now, Felix. If you need anything, I'll be in my room." She gave me a peck on my cheek and left.

After she had gone, I turned my sword on my hand to inspect it, even though I had done so already countless times. I smiled so much, my face hurt and my whiskers started to droop. I, too, was tired. Perhaps I could take a nap. All this dueling had left me exhausted. I curled up on the sofa with my trusty sword next to me. I gazed at it drowsily until I started to doze. My last thought before I drifted off was, I wonder if I could get a ribbon to hold my sword at my side like those good-looking German officers have.