Mr. Mouse and Mrs. Mouse didn’t have many friends. This was not only because their family had an embarrassing history of sneaking around, but also because their home was a disaster. Those who were forced to visit their home all said: It was simply a garbage dump.
Random things were lying around, tilted, crooked, messy, and grimy, piled on the sofa, bed, windowsill, table, and even hanging in tatters from the ceiling.
Mr. Mouse and Mrs. Mouse had become accustomed to this lifestyle. They even kind of liked it. When they were tired, it didn’t matter where they sat; when they were sleepy, it didn’t matter where they lay down.
In fact, they hardly ever felt tired unless they were hungry and had to move around to find something to eat. The rest of the time, they would look up at the white clouds floating in the sky, watch the bluebirds fluttering by, and see the old locust tree outside shaking its leaves with a rustling sound.
Sometimes, Mrs. Mouse would look at Mr. Mouse in surprise and say, “Dear Gray Mouse, your fur has gotten even darker; you’re about to become a black mouse.”
Mr. Mouse would be even more surprised, “Oh, dear White Mouse, your fur has gotten a bit grayer; you’re about to become a gray mouse.”
“Let’s wash up; we’ll be clean after a wash,” they would both say.
“But, dear, where’s our washbasin? And the towel? The soap?”
“Then forget it, let’s not wash. Black is black, gray is gray.”
…
The two mice continued living like that.
The following year, their mouse baby was born. Due to some accidents, only one of the four mouse babies survived—a little mouse that was somewhat gray and somewhat white.
“My lovely little one,” Mrs. Mouse, after being sad for a long time, finally recovered. She kissed the tip of the nose of their only baby mouse and said, “Where’s the cradle? Our precious baby needs a cradle.”
“I’ll make one right away, a sturdy and beautiful little cradle,” said Mr. Mouse, squatting down to look for tools. “Where’s the plane?” He searched for a long time but couldn’t find it. Then he started looking for the drill, but where was the drill? Even the large plank that took two mice to lift was nowhere to be found.
Soon, it got dark, but Mr. Mouse still couldn’t find any tools or materials to make the cradle.
Mrs. Mouse lost her patience. She held the baby mouse and circled around Mr. Mouse. Watching Mr. Mouse sweating profusely while searching through the pile of nutshells but still finding nothing, she couldn’t help but shout,
“Useless bum, dirty bum, lazy bum, you only cared about enjoying yourself before and never organized this house. Look at our child, not even an improper cradle, let alone a proper one…”
Mr. Mouse kept searching while retorting, “You lazy hag, swept the floor until the broom is gone, washed the dishes until the rag is gone, oh no, you never even swept the floor and the broom disappeared, never washed the dishes and the rag disappeared, and you still have the nerve to blame me. Hmph hmph…”
After they both got tired of arguing, they looked at the big pile of black, gray, and dirty things in front of them, more and more like a garbage heap. Mrs. Mouse pursed her lips, wanting to say something, and Mr. Mouse also pursed his lips, wanting to say something.
“Let’s clean up the house. Our baby mouse shouldn’t live in a garbage heap,” they suddenly said the same thing, then smiled at each other.
Mrs. Mouse, with her sharp eyes, spotted a yarn string wrapped around the leg of the sofa. She used the yarn to tie the baby mouse to her back, freeing up her hands to start tidying up their home.
Mr. Mouse worked even harder, scooping up nutshells and carrying them out…
All night long, two busy figures flickered in the candlelight, while the baby mouse slept soundly and sweetly on Mrs. Mouse’s warm back.
“Sleep, sleep, dear child. When you wake up, a bright home will appear, a bright home will appear…” Mrs. Mouse gently sang.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
