I froze in place as soon as it saw me. The rarest of the rare, the legendary-- Mew. A collector's dream catch.
My hand tightened around the Pokeball I held, nerves threatening to shatter my composure. You can't blow this now. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance.
The small pink Pokemon hovered over to the space just in front of me. It looked curious-- like it was studying me, sizing me up. I didn't dare to breathe, much less move.
With a high-pitched giggle, Mew poked my nose with its two little paws. "Boop!" it seemed to say.
I was bewildered, but there was something infectious about its laughter, something that lightened my heart and made me feel like a child again, fancy-free. I felt a giggle bubbling up in my own throat, and I released it to join with Mew's. It tagged me, and I started to chase. Mew never flew too far out of my reach.
My Pokeball dropped, forgotten, to the ground.
There is something therapeutic about being able to act like a child every once in a while-- not out of immaturity or a shirking of responsibility, but by letting go of your grown-up cares and worries for a little bit, to recharge, before you have to go back and attend to them again.
Mewkerchief is a little bit of that whimsy of childhood that can apply to all ages. And that's one of my favorite things to do with my designs: take a piece of my childhood and ossify it in yarn, making something useful and beautiful that hopefully will delight others the way it delights me.
Pattern for the Mew Plushie (which is the most adorable, accurate Mew pattern I've seen out there, and which was designed by Linda Potts) can be found here.
