If you give a mouse a cookie,
your life will no longer be your own.
You will never again know peace;
you have already given in.
He’s going to ask for a glass of milk
and you will give it to him,
because you are incapable of acting in your own best interests.
When you give him the milk (just say no, no is a perfectly reasonable response; why won’t you say it?)
he’ll probably ask you for a straw.
And you will give him one, you disgusting, craven clot of weakness.
When he’s finished, he’ll ask you for a napkin.
Then he’ll want to look in a mirror
to make sure he doesn’t have a milk mustache.
If you were to look in the mirror,
you would see nothing; you barely exist.
When he looks in the mirror,
he might notice his hair needs a trim.
(The mouse is real in a way that you were never real.)
So he’ll probably ask for a pair of nail scissors.
Get them; that is all you are good for, to fetch and be asked to fetch.
When he’s finished giving himself a trim,
he’ll want a broom to sweep it up.
(You have always brought him a broom when he asks for one.)
He’ll start sweeping.
(Was this house ever yours?)
He might get carried away and sweep every room in the house.
He may even end up washing the floors as well!
He is a good homeowner; he washes his own floors.
You are a shadow; you do not exist without him.
When he’s done, he’ll probably want to take a nap.
You’ll have to fix up a little box for him
with a blanket and a pillow.
You are a pair of hands and nothing more.
He’ll crawl in, make himself comfortable
and fluff the pillow a few times.
He’ll probably ask you to read him a story.
(He will never thank you for this, if thanks be what you are waiting for.)
So you’ll read to him from one of your books,
(they are not your books, they never were)
and he’ll ask to see the pictures.
When he looks at the pictures,
he’ll get so excited he’ll want to draw one of his own.
Do you remember excitement? (You do not.)
He’ll ask for paper and crayons.
He’ll draw a picture.
When the picture is finished,
he’ll want to sign his name with a pen.
He has a name; you have nothing; you deeded the house over to him years ago. You sit in the walls uselessly and you wait.
Then he’ll want to hang his picture on your refrigerator.
Which means he’ll need Scotch tape.
why did you ever let him in to begin with
He’ll hang up his drawing and stand back to look at it.
Looking at the refrigerator will remind him that he’s thirsty.
So… he’ll ask for a glass of milk.
You’ll sob a little, or choke on a sob,
But you’ll say nothing, and you’ll get it for him.
And chances are if he asks you for a glass of milk,
he’s going to want a cookie to go with it.
It will never be over. He will never go.
He will never sleep. You will not say no.
Tags: boundaries, children’s stories made horrific, cookies, giving, mice
I’m beginning to think this isn’t about a mouse at all, but instead is some kind of metaphor.
misandry began here, when we all started to hate the male mice we fed
In related news, you will go without dinner in order not to disturb the cat asleep upside down on your lap. And you will be happy to do so.
If you woke the cat, he might eat the mouse. Terrible for everyone (glee!) Awful. You would never forgive the cat (glee!)
In all sincerity, I would like to say thank you for the nightmares.
There’s a certain amount of thematic overlap here with The (non-Mallory-edited) Giving Tree.
Yup, my immediate reaction was “I would not give a mouse a cookie and a glass of milk, what am I, some sort of guilt-factory co-dependent Giving Tree?”
I had this mouse last year. He shook my drawers like a poltergeist and where once there were Balance bars there was suddenly just a tinsel-y pile of shredded wrappers. When I took the rest away? Ungodly shrieking. Just say no, and stop up all holes with Brillo pads.
OK, Brillo pads and that vigilant face. Problem solved!
If you give a mouse a cookie, he will eventually ask for your skin to wear as a suit.
I mean, better than getting the hose again!
Now I’m really glad I didn’t get my nephew this book for Christmas- though maybe he should have been warned. He already has a horror of mice, so I didn’t think I should make it worse by showing how truly demanding they are.
If you give a moose a muffin, you have already stared into the abyss too long.
There is no hope for you.
There is no hope for anyone.
The mouse will sell your address and phone number to his network so be prepared to be visited by the cat and the moose and GOD FORBID the PIG gets your info because she will fuck up your furniture.
I have many feelings about this, and I don’t think words exist in any language for any of them.
In other words: Mallory, you have punched me right in the childhood. Again.
Er, I mean that in the nicest way possible.
I’d never read this book until about a year ago, when my partner’s niece wanted me to read it to her incessantly. It’s not much weirder than this poem, imho.
As we were fond of saying in my High School Model UN club (you guys, we were SO COOL) “If you give a mouse a cookie, he’s going to annex the Sudetenland.”
This created a deep desire for a cookie.
UGH MALLORY this is so great. I loved this book as a kid. I identified with the mouse’s unquenching selfishness.
Is it me, or is this book just a thinly veiled rant against the welfare state? PRETTY SOON THAT DAMN MOUSE WILL WANT HEALTH CARE AND A PENSION TOO. SLIPPERY SLOPE SLIPPERY SLOPE AAAGH
I’m pretty sure it’s a thinly veiled rant against children, designed to be read to children. Who will see nothing wrong with it, and then inevitably ask for a cookie. [I remember doing this distinctly. And would very much like a cookie now.]. The book may be designed to make parents question their life choices.
There was a piece called “If You Give a Mouse Cocaine” published in one Columbia University student publication (can’t remember which one) before break. Maybe you should try that?
OK, Brillo pads and that vigilant face. Problem solved!
If you give a mouse a cookie, she’ll just nibble on part of it and crap on the rest.
I love Mallory so much. Knowing she exists makes my world better
I know this is a dead thread, but I found it via the recent “Runaway Bunny” post in this same tag, and I had to take the opportunity to agree. Mallory’s writing and worldview are precious, precious things. Always worth reading.
Because we love it. Where would we be without a mouse in our lives? Nowhere. Bitter, empty hearted, purposeless nothings with nothing to love and nothing to do. You let the mouse into your life, and then you have a life.
This made me laugh so hard.