and so it begins

AGAIN.

MOUSES!

That's right, my dear friends, that's what I said: and so it begins, again.

MOUSES!

I know, I know...  I know what you're thinkin'.  You're thinkin'...

Actually, to tell you the truth, I have no idea what you're thinkin'.  Usually, I do.  USUALLY, I know EXACTLY what my pals are thinkin', but today...

But today...

But today, I'm havin' trouble concentratin' on account of my only gettin' in eighteen or so hours of sleep, yesterday.

Usually, I try to get in at least twenty.

MOUSES!

And yes, the reason I didn't get my full twenty hours of sleep in, yesterday, is because it has begun.

AGAIN.

MOUSES!

What?  What's that, Peepers?  What's that you're babblin' on about now?

YOU DID TOO keep me awake yesterday evenin'.  And the evenin' before that, too.  All that clickety-clack, clackety-click, clickety, clackety, clickin'.

It was ear-piercin', to be sure.

MOUSES!

What?

For mousin' out loud, Peepers.  Do I have to explain EVERYTHIN' to you?

IT WAS YOUR KNITTIN'!

Some peeps know nothin' about nothin', I swear.

MOUSES!

So as I was sayin'...

As I was sayin', Peepers is back to spendin' her evenings doin' knittin'.  And the clickin' and clackin' of those knittin' needles IS DRIVING ME MAD!

Don't say it, Peepers.  Don't you dare say it.  Don't you dare say anythin' eludin' to my already bein'..  You know...  Mad.

Although ANGRY I might be, on account of my napless evenings these past nights, on account of the noise from those nasty ol' needles.

But angry is definitely not the same thing as mad.

I don't think.

MOUSES!

But anyway...

But anyway, like I was sayin', Peepers is back to her knittin'.  I THOUGHT we were all done with that when she finished the sweater she made for her pal's birthday, earlier this month, but OH NO....

Oh no, NOW she's makin' a sweater for herself.  So she's back to doin' more noisy-as-mouses knittin'.

MOUSES!

It would be different if she were makin' a sweater for me, of course, 'cause then...

WHAT AM I SAYIN'???

I'm not wearin' no moused-up, stupid ol' sweater.

My marmalade furs are perfect, just as they are.

MOUSES!

So I suppose...

So I suppose, when I actually think about it, Peepers knittin' a sweater for herself IS better than her makin' one for me.  Perhaps I can manage to put up with a little clickin' and clackin', as tryin' as that might be.

Although a pair of industrial-strength earplugs will most certainly be in order.

MOUSES!