Previously in this series: The Little Prince.
A mother held her new baby and very slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. She held him, and he couldn’t move unless she moved him. When she wanted him to be still, he was still. When she wanted him to move, he moved. And she rocked him, and she held him. And while she held him, she sang:
I’ll love you forever,
I’ll have you for always,
As long as I’m living
my baby you’ll be.
The baby grew. He grew and he grew and he grew.
(But she was still bigger. She was always bigger than him.)
He grew until he was two years old, and he ran all around the house. He pulled all the books off the shelves.
She gave the books away. Now the shelves were empty. There was nothing to pull.
He pulled all the food out of the refrigerator.
She threw the food away. Now the refrigerator was empty. It held a lightbulb and it held cold inside of itself, and nothing else. There was nothing to eat. She loved him so much.
He took his mother’s watch and flushed it down the toilet. And she picked him up and she put him inside of the refrigerator, so that now it was not empty. And he was only two. And he had to hold his knees to his chin and lay sideways in the dark. And she heard the thump of his body behind the door, and she loved him. She loved him still and quiet and behind the door.
You were quiet and still and in the dark when you lived inside of me, she told him through the door. You be quiet and still and in the dark now.
And when he stopped thumping, she opened the door, and she let him lie on the floor.
When she wanted him to move, he moved. When she wanted him to be still, he was still. If he moved when she wanted him to be still, she knew how to make him be still. She was his mother.
At night time, when that two-year-old was in bed and not moving and the lights were all turned off, she opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor, looked up over the side of his bed, because she was his mother and there is nowhere a mother cannot go. She crawled on her hands and knees. He could see her eyes just above the floor. And he didn’t move.
She would pick him up and rock him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Sometimes she rocked him very tightly, and it made his head ache. You don’t have a head ache, she told him. I know what pain is like, when I gave birth to you. You don’t know what pain is like.
He thought he knew what pain was like, but his mother knew that he didn’t. His mother knew everything that he knew. I used myself to make you, she told him. There is no part of you that did not come from me. That does not belong to me. I am more you than you are.
While she rocked him she sang:
I’ll love you forever,
I’ll have you for always,
As long as I’m living
my baby you’ll be.
I’ll always be living, she told him. I can’t die. I’m your mother. Mothers can’t die. You’ll grow up and be an old man and I’ll still be here. I’ll still be your mother. And as long as I’m living, I’ll be bigger than you.
She always was.
The little boy grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. (But she was still bigger.) He grew until he was nine years old. (But she was still stronger.) And he never wanted to come in for dinner.
So she stopped letting him out. A good son would not want to leave the house. A good son did not leave the house. A good son stayed in the four rooms and the hallways he was allowed to go in. A good son knew the rooms he was allowed to go in and the rooms he was not; knew the words he was allowed to say and when he was allowed to say them; knew when to keep his eyes closed and his mouth closed and when to go in the dark.
But at night time, when he was in his bed and not moving, the mother quietly opened the door to his room — how can you lock out a mother? — crawled across the floor and looked up over the side of the bed. Then she picked up that nine-year-old boy and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while she rocked him she sang:
I’ll love you forever,
I’ll have you for always,
As long as I’m living
my baby you’ll be.
The boy stopped growing. The boy only moved when she wanted him to move. The rest of the time he was still.
The boy was almost always still.
Sometimes the mother wouldn’t have to wait until it was dark to open the door to his room, crawl across the floor, and look up over the side of the bed. He always expected her now. His head always hurt. She was always rocking him. A mother can’t go away. The sun can’t go away. And she sang to him. She always sang to him:
I’ll love you forever,
I’ll have you for always,
As long as I’m living
my baby you’ll be.
The boy didn’t know any other songs.
I’ll always be living, she told him. I can’t die. I’m your mother. Mothers can’t die. You’ll grow up and be an old man and I’ll still be here. I’ll still be your mother. And as long as I’m living, I’ll be bigger than you.
That teenager grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until he was a grown-up man. He left home.
But he couldn’t really leave his mother. You never really leave your mother. Your mother can’t let you. You’re her baby.
Sometimes on dark nights the mother got into her car and drove across town. She knew where he lived. He was her son. You can’t keep secrets from your mother. She finds you. In the dark, if she has to. Crawling, if she has to. Eyes across the floor.
If all the lights in her son’s house were out, she opened his bedroom window — you can’t lock out your mother — crawled across the floor, and looked up over the side of his bed.
If that great big man was really asleep she picked him up and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
She was so strong, and he was only a boy. Her love hurt him very much, but that never stopped her.
And while she rocked him she sang:
I’ll love you forever,
I’ll have you for always,
As long as I’m living
my baby you’ll be.
Well, that mother, she got older. She got older and older and older. One day she called up her son and said, “You’d better come see me because I’m very old and sick.” And her son didn’t say anything for a long time.
So her son came to see her. She was sitting in the dark.
When he came in the door she tried to sing the song. She sang:
I’ll love you forever,
I’ll have you for always…
But she couldn’t finish because she was too old and sick. The son went to his mother, but his feet didn’t work right. She wasn’t bigger than him, but she was still his mother. You can’t lock mothers out.
He touched her hand, and her skin was hot and cold all at once. It made his head ache, to touch her. She smiled.
He picked her up and rocked her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And he sang this song:
You’ll love me forever,
You’ll have me for always,
As long as I’m living
my Mother you’ll be.
When the son came home that night, he stood for a long time at the top of the stairs. Then he went into the room where his very new baby daughter was sleeping. He looked at her, but he didn’t pick her up, and he didn’t sing to her.
He looked at her and he didn’t say anything and he left the room and he closed the door.
Tags: children’s books, children’s stories made horrific, love you forever, the mother
These might be getting too emotionally devastating for me to read. Mallory, you are truly a master.
-tiny screams-
To be fair, this is already a pretty horrifying book.
Seriously. It didn’t need much help from Mallory.
This book was and is and has always been exactly this upsetting to me.
Came here to say exactly this. You could have just reprinted it.
(Did they do that already with The Giving Tree?)
ETA: also, not gonna lie, I thought there was going to be more mom-killing. But that would almost be too upbeat!
This is the book that makes you start to cry when you read it to your kids the very first time.
After that, you start to feel antagonistic about this book, “I don’t want to read this to my kid, this is messed UP.”
Then, the next time you think about this book you tell yourself, “Life’s too short to read depressing books about codependency to my child. Where’s Busy Town?”
Mallory: Slay-away, Slayer!
I used to think so too, until I found out that Robert Munsch wrote it after he and his wife had two stillborn babies: http://robertmunsch.com/book/love-you-forever
As someone who is struggling to have a healthy pregnancy, I have a whoooooole new appreciation of it.
Oh, absolutely. I don’t think it’s objectively horrible or anything. I just think this is the kind of book that people bring a LOT of their own past into. For those of us with overbearing, clingy, emotionally stifling parents, this book rings true in a really creepy way, but then again, I’ve never been a parent.
To clarify my post below…I did know the story, and so it just makes me so sad that I can’t handle it.
Aww, no doubt. Me too. Just thinking about it makes me weepy (I’m not pregnant, but I’m definitely hormonal – thanks, infertility meds!).
Yeah, I can barely read it anyway* and DEFINITELY couldn’t read this version.
*if you are 8 months pregnant, or have a newborn baby and are super-hormonal, DO NOT read this book.
FOR REAL.
I remember someone reading this book to me as a kid and thinking it was *incredibly* creepy. LEAVE YOUR GROWN SON ALONE YOU MANIAC.
Woah, even the original reads like a post from the reddit feed (forum? Thread? Man I’m uncool) about children of narcissists.
With this, I was laughing and laughing and then I had shivers.
Coincidentally, it is also my mom’s favorite book.
I always hated that book, and now I know why
I knew this was going to be super rough because the original story is already kind of horrible, but whoaaaaa. The implication that now he’ll be emotionally withdrawn from his daughter as a reaction to his clingy mother? Devastating.
I thought the implication was that now the mother’s ghost would be possessing the baby daughter.
He can never get away.
Noooooo. (but that totally fits with my interpretation–he’ll be withholding, and then when she’s a mother, she’ll try to get the affection she never got from him in a terrible clingy relationship with her own child. In other words, she’ll be possessed by the same need as her grandmother.)
I figured that was foreshadowing that eventually he, too was going to rock his baby to sleep and that he was just starting to think about it now.
ooooh I “like” this. ( i hate it i hate it stoooooop )
Is it possible that he realizes that his mother’s hold on him was too strong, and the end was actually uplifting since he was breaking the cycle?
Well, I say we cling to that interpretation and draw some light from this horror.
I’ve never read the original so this was just one long Bates Motel-esque fever-dream of a read, with me going “this has to be a part that Mallory added” and then SEEING AN ILLUSTRATION OF THAT VERY THING.
Exact same reaction. “Wait what is that a grown man.”
This is masterfully horrifying. However, this damn book is already plenty horrifying on its own.
Could any children’s book be more guilty of being actually for parents? And for parents who idealize their own tragic love for their children while they are sleeping, and thus have no agency?
Sorry. I have two little kids, love them lots, find them angelic while they are sleeping etc. etc. but cannot stand this book. Books for kids should, you know, be written for humans who happen to be young, not adults swooning over how much they love their own kids.
I much prefer this Mallory version.
Welp, thanks for ruining many precious memories of my mother reading me this book. I’m going to go slit my wrists with a Mother’s Day card now.
This is really very good.
I hated this book as a kid and I hate it more now. I feel better about being so heartless now!
The original was creepy as shit to begin with. This version just exposes THE TRUTH of what this story is.
This whole series (for me, at least) has 100% been about exposing the creepy truths of all the children’s stories I remember fondly.
Alright then. Who wants to have a vodka-tears with me?
Seriously, Mallory, this kind of terror really is more of a lunchtime post, no? I can’t do this right now.
Jesus fucking christ Mallory it’s not even 11 in the morning fuck
I couldn’t even read it this morning. I took one look and thought “NO.” I was only strong enough to read it when I got home from work.
(Actually, I thought that the mother suffocated the child early on and that the whole thing was going to be about her schlepping around his corpse. Fortunately, Mallory didn’t quite go there…this time.)
Mary Roosevelt, is that you?
#PBSoverdosing
Welp, taking this off the list of books to buy for my soon-to-be niecenephew.
Nibling!
That’s an adorable word! Thank you.
(Also, for some reason, when I clicked that link on my phone (from the email notification I got from Intense Debate) it took me to the wiktionary page for “chirality.”)
Weird! Weirder still because I just listened to the Radiolab episode on symmetry where they talk about chirality. STRANGE.
Why did she even need to crawl across the floor? The kid’s supposed to be asleep, and there’s a bright light coming in from the hallway anyway. Couldn’t she just walk like a normal, non-creeper parent?
She came in from the yellow wallpaper?
Jesus, Mallory.
This is your Flowers in The Attic, Mallory. Amazing.
to be fair, this is not that much more horrifying then the original
I thought this was going to go the way of the Giving Tree, but you surprised me and somehow made it equally dark!
Also totes agreeing that the original is creeeeeeepy.
i am actually sitting in my cubicle crying rn
Hey man. Hey. I like this book. Come on. Why you gotta be like that?
Okay, so I guess it’s creepy that she’s Rocking her grown son.
I can’t oh my god. *keens quietly to self in fetal position*
(This may have something to do with me having a two year old son and imagining a two year old hungry in a refrigerator. Sort of devastates.)
And if that weren’t bad enough — which it IS, it truly is — this also brings back the trauma of watching the Very Special Episode of Punky Brewster where some kid shuts himself in a refrigerator during a game of hide and seek and they had to use CPR to revive him. It freaked me out SO MUCH.
This is like an extra-horrible episode of SVU.
I already had Grey Gardens to make me and my Mom feel awkward about our super best friends forever status, why do you gotta bring Love You Forever into it.
Hey now, Love You Forever is in no way about Super Best Friends Mom. Because she rocks a grown man like a baby.
BRB going to go cry in a corner and pray that no one never let my kids hear about this book.
I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS. I read this to my two year old hoping to plant a seed in his tiny brain that I will ALWAYS BE WATCHING, specifically to see if he is ever mean to a girl. Like a misandrist panopticon.
“misandrist panopticon” I love you forever.
> The boy stopped growing. The boy only moved when she wanted him to move. The rest of the time he was still.
> The boy was almost always still.
Well, jeeeeeepers.
this makes me want to turn my skin inside out and i love that
*shudder*
I remember reading this to groups of small children during summer camp, too braindead with exhaustion to really pay attention, and now I’m afraid I’m responsible for seeding tiny codependent psychopaths into our society.
You know what I only JUST put together? All of these retold children’s stories, with the exception of Madeline, are about boys.
In fact, when I think about it, most of my toddler-era books were about boys. Whether they were squirrels or aliens or princes or toy rabbits, that was the default. I know this is probably obvious but my mind is blown right now.
You are not alone. I was thinking about the Bechdel test this morning in the shower (like you do), and realized almost all of my favorite childhood movies were about boys. The only counterexamples I can think of are National Velvet and Natty Gann, which I watched until the tapes were worn through.
It would be interesting to see the male-to-female protagonist breakdown of the Little Golden Books. To the wiki-mobile!
Most children’s books do seem to be stories about boys! I’m lucky that my feminist mother curated my book collection very carefully up until the age of about 22, so I was honestly never aware of that. In my book collection, most narrators and protagonists are female and super cool. The downside of course is that now I have no idea how to find books for myself and I hate everything. Mooooooom, helllllllp. 🙁
DO THE GIVING TREE NEXT.
She did The Giving Tree first! http://the-toast.net/2013/11/13/gifts-giving-tree…
I also enjoy the Honest Toddler’s take on The Giving Tree: “In this book a young boy with beautiful overalls kills a tree over the course of many years.” http://www.thehonesttoddler.com/2012/09/books_27….
My mom loved reading this book to me and my sister. And she would sing the song. I have never liked it.
Wait, did he die in the fridge? Did any of the rest of that stuff even happen, or did the dying child just imagine it all? Is this some Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge shit? Just how disturbed should I be, is my question.
Yeah, “The boy only moved when she wanted him to move. The rest of the time he was still” strongly implies some corpse-puppetry shit. I think he lived, though.
I’m honestly not sure which version would be more disturbing – him living, or this all being an end of life fantasy/projection of his insane mother.
Also kudos for the term “corpse-puppetry”, filing that away for another day!
But, he kept growing? How could he be a dead corpse puppet and keep growing?
…I don’t want to know, do I?
More importantly, how could a corpse puppet create a NEW BABY?
I am so happy to know that there are many others out there who find the original to be as creepy as I do.
I genuinely remember as a 5-6 yo bonding with my mom over our shared horror of this (gifted to us) children’s book; in college I would do story times at a local community library and this was one of a few books I worked very very hard on keeping hidden and out of request rotation…
This book was a gift when my daughter was born and I have always hated it and tonight when I get home I am THROWING IT AWAY FOREVER.
Hilariously, I was just talking to a coworker yesterday about how creepy this book is. (We work in a children’s library.) I feel like I should print this out and give it to her.
This is by far the most horrifying yet
The Velveteen Rabbit made me cry, but maybe that because I just hadn’t realized the extent of Mallory’s power at that point? Now I steel myself before I click.
I didn’t like this book as a kid, and my mom thought it was freaky, but for some reason the cover art was seared into my brain. Around y2k Jessica Simpson had a popular single with the same title and whenever I heard the chorus I’d think of that dumb toilet baby (for whom I now have more complicated feelings)
Sorry Jessica Simpson
Wait, I don’t get it – what did you change?
😛
Why does it automatically upvote my comment? I don’t want to vote on my own comment…
Mallory, you are my evil goddess.
this series makes me continuously happy – especially since i’ve disliked The Runaway Bunny, The Giving Tree, and Love You Forever since I was a little girl. i feel tremendously vindicated.
"misandrist panopticon" I love you forever.
More importantly, how could a corpse puppet create a NEW BABY?
I agree that Love You Forever seems like a really weird book. But then when you learn about *why* he wrote it, it’s actually rather sad. http://robertmunsch.com/book/love-you-forever
‘You don’t have a head ache, she told him. I know what pain is like, when I gave birth to you. You don’t know what pain is like.’ HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA this is amazing. I think my mother may have told me something similar once? This love you forever mother is hilarious and great. I feel like she may have another kid downstairs somewhere and be raising it in a totally different way, like out of a vague experimentation.
Please do Alexander And The Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day at some point?!
This series needs to be a book that I can give to every new parent I will ever know.
(I was going to beg you to do The Giving Tree, but what could a person do to make that one more horrifying?)
The original book was written for his two children that were still births.
The author and his wife lost 2 babies, both born dead. It explains alot.