)It's written in the second-person and intended for parents to read to children. In effect, the child hears about an adventure he or she had earlier in the day but has forgotten about because of a bonk on the head or similar amnesia-inducing calamity.
I'm particularly interested to hear from parents about whether they feel the Swamp of Wrong Words section might be too difiicult to read out loud. And of course if anyone spots any typos or similar errors, I'm always happy to receive free proofreading
The Mango Mouse
What an incredible, amazing, stupendous, incredible, stupendous, incredible, incredible, incredible, incredible, stupendous, amazing, incredible adventure you had today.
Obviously you can't remember a thing about it because of that bonk on the head.
Let me remind you what happened.
I was cutting my toenails and you were trying to rub your belly and pat your head at the same time like this … and then suddenly you stopped and said, “I'm hungry.”
And I said, “Would you like a mango?”
And you said, “Yum yum. Yes please.”
But when I looked, I found we didn't have any mangoes.
“Don't worry,” you said. “I know where mangoes come from.”
And off you went to the woods.
As soon as you got to the woods, you went straight to see the mango mouse, because everybody knows that mangoes don't grow on trees, oh no they don't. Mangoes come from a magic mouse called the mango mouse. But the mango mouse will only come out of her home and give you a mango if you sing the special magic mango song. Luckily you knew that song.
So you went to the mango mouse's home, which was a hole in the trunk of an old tree, and you stood outside and started singing that magic mango song. It went like this:
Mango mango mango mouse
Please come out your mango house
Mango mango mango moose
Let me taste your mango juice
Mango mango mango mice
Give me mangoes, sweet and nice
Mango mango mango miss
Send to me your mango kiss
You didn't really know what a mango kiss was, and to tell the truth you thought the song was kind of silly, but that was the magic mango song you had to sing if you wanted the mango mouse to give you a mango, so you sang it and waited.
After a while, you heard a squeaky voice come from inside the hole: “Who's that singing a silly song outside my home?”
“It's me,” you said.
“Who are you?” said the voice.
“I'm just some kid who wants a mango,” you replied.
“A mango?” said the voice. “What makes you think I have any mangoes?”
“Because you're the mango mouse,” you said. “And I just sang the magic mango song so now you have to come out and give me a mango.”
There was a silence for a while and then the voice say: “You're crazy.”
You were shocked. You thought the mango mouse had to come out and give you a mango but she wasn't doing it. What was wrong? Maybe I should sing the song some more, you thought. So you started singing again:
Mango mango mango mouse
Please come out your—
“Jiminy Cricket, don't start that again,” said the mango mouse. “Wait a second. I'm coming out. I want to take a look at whatever kind of crazy kid thinks mangoes come from a magic mango mouse. By the way—you won't hurt me, will you?”
“Of course not,” you said.
“Promise?” said the mouse. “I'm only a little mouse, and you sound like some great big animal that could step on me if you're not careful.”
“I promise,” you said.
So the mouse came out of her hole. She was a very cute little mouse. She looked up at you and said, “So, that's what you look like.”
“Yes,” you replied. “This is what I look like. At least I think it is.” And then you said, “Are you sure you're not the mango mouse?”
“Of course not,” replied the mouse. “There isn't such a thing as a mango mouse. Everybody knows that.”
“Then where do mangoes come from?” you asked.
“If you want mangoes,” said the mouse, “you need to find the mango monkey.”
“The mango monkey?” you said.
“Of course. Everybody knows that.”
“They do?” you said.
“Sure,” said the mouse. “You'll find the mango monkey in the Forest of Time Flowing Backwards, which is that way.”
The mouse pointed and then disappeared back into her hole.
“The Forest of Time Flowing Backwards?” you said. “What a strange-sounding place.”
Strange or not, you really wanted a mango, so you set off in the direction of the Forest of Times Flowing Backwards.
You walked for a long time and eventually you came to a forest surrounded by a red wall. There was a gate and on the gate was a sign and on the sign was some writing and on the writing was a fly and under the fly was some writing and the writing said:
The Forest of Time Flowing Backwards
We hope you enjoyed your visit
This must be it, you thought, and you walked through the gate.
“Bless you,” said a sparrow.
And then you sneezed.
“Thank you. Goodbye,” you said to the monkey.
“You need to find the mango crocodile,” said the monkey. “He lives in the Swamp of Wrong Words.”
“So where do mangoes come from?” you asked the monkey.
“Geez Lousie, kid, you're crazy,” said the monkey. “I don't have any mangoes. I'm a monkey. I eat bananas.”
“Hello, Mr Monkey, sir,” you said. “Could I have a mango, please, thank you very much?”
And there in the middle of the Forest of Time Flowing Backwards, you found the mango monkey.
And then you were back at the edge of the forest, walking out through the gate, and there was a sign which read:
The Forest of Time Flowing Backwards
Welcome
What a strange place, you thought. I'm glad to get out of there. Everything was back-to-front and very confusing. But at least now I know I have to find the mango crocodile who lives in the Swamp of Wrong Words.
So you walked for a long way until you came to a swamp. At the edge of the swamp was a sign which read:
Welcome to The Swimp of Ring Weirds
You entered the swimp and worked a runed fur a lung team, lurking for that mingo crack-a-duel. Bet ye cudn't fend him annie were.
After a why yell, ye mutt a little sporrow on the brunch of a tray.
“Eggs goose me, little sporrow,” ye sod. “I dent spores ye no wire the mingo crack-a-duel lives, do ye?”
“You're creasy,” sod the sporrow. “Sporrow's can't tuck. You shed husk a pair it. Pair its ken tuck ferry wool.”
So ye wanton fond a pair it, witch as ye now is a beg bared witch ken tuck ferry wool, and ye husked hem, “Eggs goose me, Mr Pair it. Do ye no wire the mingo crack-a-duel lives?”
“The mingo crack-a-duel?” sod the pair it. “Sore do. The mingo crack-a-duel lives over in tat treck shun.” And the pair it painted to the sooth.
Ye hidded sooth in the treck shun the pair it had painted, and swoon ye fond tat mingo crack-a-duel. He wiz a grit bug best, socks miters lung at leased.
“Eggs goose me, mingo crack-a-duel,” ye sod. “Cud I huff a mingo, pliers, funky ferry much?”
“I dent huff neigh mingoes,” sod tat mingo crack-a-duel. “Ye kneed to fend the mongo pushy cut.”
“The mongo pushy cut?” you husked.
“Tat's riot,” re-ploughed the mingo crack-a-duel. “The mongo pushy cut in the jingle off growled up rye tin will gift ye a mongo.”
So ye loft tat Swimp of Ring Weirds and went off in search of the mango pussy cat in the Jungle of Grown-up Writing.
I'm glad to get out of that swamp, you thought. It was hard to understand what anyone was talking about. It just goes to show that being able to spell words correctly is quiet impotent. I wonder what the Jungle of Grown-up Writing will be like.
Grown-up writing? You didn't like the sound of that at all.
After a long journey, you finally came to the edge of a jungle. There was a sign there which read:
Welcome to the Jungle of Grown-up Writing
Otherwise known as the Multifarious Cornucopia of Adult-oriented Literary Endeavours.
You really, really, really didn't like the sound of it, but you wanted a mango and you'd come a long way, so you walked into the jungle and started searching for the mango pussy cat.
After some not inconsiderable efforts, you eventually discovered the feline creature sleeping on the branch of a tree.
You squatted down upon your haunches and waited.
After what seemed like seven-and-a-half seconds, the mango pussy cat raised a droopy eyelid and cast a contemptuous glance in your direction.
“What you don't realise,” she said in a sleepy voice, “is that I've been anticipating your every move.”
“Is that so?” you said.
“Yes, it is.” The words were a challenge and you knew it, and she knew you knew it, and you knew she knew you knew it, and so on in an unending cycle of recursive clauses.
But you'd come this far—you weren't about to back down now.
“In that case,” you continued, attempting to adopt a nonchalant air, “you must know why I'm here. You must know … the identity of that which I seek.”
The animal was silent for a while. Then, in a tone that hinted at a deeper significance, she said simply: “The mango.”
You smiled. “Yes. The mango.” The words were now out in the open and could not be unsaid. The die was cast; the trap set.
“The mango,” she continued, “is with the mango mouse.”
You gasped. “But ... that ... that cannot be. I have already paid a visit to the aforementioned fruit-themed rodent. She denied any knowledge.”
The pussy cat shrugged. “I have told you what you need to know.” With that, she curled up and fell once more into hypnogogic slumber.
You considered for a moment. The path was pellucidly transpicuous: you must return to the mango mouse and attempt to discover the truth once and for all.
You walked out of the Jungle of Grown-up Writing and you were very glad to get out of it. It seemed to you that the people there liked to use a lot of big words even when they didn't have anything much to say. Perhaps one day you would return and see things differently, but for now you were glad to be back out in the bright, sunny, simple woods.
After another long journey, you finally arrived back at the home of the mango mouse.
Mango mango mango mouse
(you sang)
Please come out your mango house
“Jiminy Cricket, not you again,” came a voice from inside the tree, and the mouse appeared again from her hole. “I already told you, kid, I'm not the mango mouse.”
“I'm sorry to bother you again,” you told her, “but I went to see the mango monkey in the Forest of Time Flowing Backwards like you told me—”
“You did?” asked the mouse.
“Yes, and he told me to see the mango crocodile in the Swamp of Wrong Words—”
“You went to the Swamp of Wrong Words?” asked the mouse.
“Yes I did,” you replied. “But the mango crocodile sent me to the Jungle of Grown-up Writing to see the mango pussy cat and I didn't like that at all and—”
“And don't tell me,” said the mouse, “—the mango pussy cat sent you back here.”
“That's right,” you replied.
The mouse stared into your eyes with a look of deep significance. “You have done well, my friend,” she said.
“I have?” you said.
“You have indeed,” said the mouse. “In fact, you have passed the test.”
“What test?” you asked.
“The mango mouse test,” said the mango mouse.
“So you really are the mango mouse, after all?” you exclaimed.
The mango mouse smiled and nodded. “And now you shall have your reward,” she said, and she ran up the trunk of the tree.
You looked up. Hanging from the branches of this great tree were hundreds and hundreds of juicy ripe mangoes. You hadn't noticed them before.
The mango mouse ran along the branch to where a big mango dangled from a slender stem.
“Here, child,” said the mango mouse. “Get ready to catch it.”
Then she started gnawing at the stem with her teeth. When she'd finished, the mango fell from the tree and you held out your hands to catch it. Unfortunately it missed your hands and bonked you on the head. You were knocked out and when you woke up, that bonk on the head had made you forget all about your amazing adventures.
You rubbed your head and looked around. There was no sign of the mango mouse.
You thought to yourself: I must have fallen asleep. That's not good. I need to find a mango.
But then you noticed a big juicy mango lying on the ground beside you.
Oh, that's lucky, you thought, and you picked up that mango and brought it home and we shared it, half each, and it was without doubt the most delicious, juiciest mango I have ever tasted in my life.
It's a pity you can't remember anything about your amazing adventures today, but never mind—you did a great job visiting all those strange places and passing that mango test and bringing that mango back and sharing it with me. (That was my favourite part. Yum yum.)
Well done you.
Three cheers for you!
Hip hip…
