If You Give a Mouse a Cookie

It’s astounding how many days I just look at my husband, just stop whatever thing I’m frantically doing, or two or three things I’m attempting to juggle, and say, with a sigh, “if you give a mouse a cookie…” and he knows just what I’m saying.


I’m saying, “I’m overwhelmed.” I’m saying, “Please help.” I’m saying, “I’ll only sleep four hours tonight.”

Do you remember that book, from when you were a kid? It’s like a lesson in adulthood that you didn’t even realize. If you give a mouse a cookie suddenly one thing and another and before you know it you’re having a commitment ceremony with the mouse and you’re like “WTF how’d I get this mouse, anyway? And where the fuck is my cookie?”


I have a tendency to take on to much, too quickly, and think I can balance it all. I joke that I am not satisfied until I’m stressed, but, it’s only halfway a joke. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember. What’s that they say about pressure, something about diamonds? Well, baby, I must be so sparkly, because I thrive under pressure.

That said, sometimes it’s too much. Sometimes when I come home from ten hours in my new classroom (Hooray! Last week I started a new job at a new school with new kids in a new classroom AND for the first time ever I’m being paid like an adult for doing my job!), and realize that I hope to go to bed in four hours, but in that time the dishwasher needs to be emptied before I can mix up my pre workout (now a necessity due to having been up since 4:30, if I want to lift with any reasonable energy) because all the shaker bottles are in there, and anyhow I’ll need it empty when I finish lifting so that I can get started on dinner right away when I get out of the gym; oh dear how is the chicken not defrosted, I guess I should put that in some water and DAMMIT ok, run out to the garden after the silverware is put away to see how many tomatoes are ready for using, but on the way realize the cat’s water bowl is empty and he’s yelling about wanting to go outside while sitting on my computer… which reminds me my thesis advisor is on my ass about chapter 4 being due two weeks ago so I should try and get a little of chapter 3 finished before sending my draft to her sheepishly and getting started on lesson planning for US History and Economics tomorrow but UGH the cat hair… better sweep the floor…ALL of it…


Buuuuutt thennn….

It piles up quickly, and all it takes is one interruption- a stubbed toe, my husband walking in the door with anything less than a sunny disposition, the tomatoes being covered in arachnophobia-level spiderwebs (seriously, anyone else having garden spider battles? These bitches are AGGRESSIVE!) to send me into a spiral of tears or door slamming or other forms of childish exasperation. For me, it would be the “scotch tape,” part of the story. DAFUQ DO YOU MEAN YOU NEED SCOTCH TAPE USE A FUCKING MAGNET YOU PRICK THEY’RE RIGHT THERE ON THE FRIDGE ALREADY.



But on a good day, I can just look at my husband and say…

“If you give a mouse a cookie…”

And he will come to my rescue. He’ll battle the garden spiders and usher me into the gym. He’ll take my ever-full legal pad full of to-dos and set it aside, put on a trap playlist real loud, and empty the dishwasher.

New posts coming soon- I just need to get all my cookies organized here. I’ve just got a few weeks left before my thesis is due, and that will take a significant amount of stress off and free up more writing time.


I hope you are better at managing your cookies, or have someone monitoring your cookies and all the subsequent steps like I do.


2 thoughts on “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie

  1. Doesn’t work for everyone, but I have an arrangement with my mouse. I bring in the cookies (aka money), while he does all the housework – shopping, cooking (with macros!), cleaning, brushing the cats…


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