T’was the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring except ... one little mouse. Theodore poked his head around the corner into the living room to check the coast was clear. It was. However, in case the cat was still awake, he cautiously tip-toed across to the dining table to see if any scraps had found their way onto the floor as he knew from past experience, how messy the kids that lived there were.

Unfortunately it was clean and there were no scraps but Theodore knew that tonight was unlike other nights. He eyed the Christmas tree surrounded by all kinds and sizes of packages and quickly scurried over to sniff them out. On past Christmas Eves he had sniffed out packages containing cake, dried fruit, lollies and chocolates: a potential feast if he had the time to gnaw through the tight ribbons and wrappings.

Unfortunately time he didn’t always have, especially on Christmas Eve. Even more enticing than the wrapped gifts though, was the piece of Christmas cake and glass of whisky left on the mantle piece for Santa. But he had to be quick!

“Hey little mouse,” came a beaming voice behind him.

Theodore turned and watched the chubby, white-bearded old man in his easily recognisable red suit climb out of the fireplace with a packed sack.

“We meet again,” Santa continued.

Damn, Theodore thought as he stood and watched him unpack his sack under the tree, and quickly gobble down the cake followed by the whisky. Santa then cheekily smiled at Theodore, bowed and waved a silent goodbye. Then as Theodore watched him climb into and back up the chimney, he sighed and vowed once again to make an extra effort to beat him...next year.