A Mischief of Mice

My week­ly sto­ry­time at Big Hill Books in Min­neapo­lis is back to just the very small chil­dren after a sum­mer in which some big kids vis­it­ed and we could read longer pic­ture books on occa­sion while the lit­tles ran around the book­store. These lit­tle ones are so amaz­ing — they’re get­ting gobs of vocab each week. They greet each oth­er. They’re learn­ing to say their own names and show us their one or two-year-old fin­gers. It con­tin­ues to be one of my favorite hours of the week.

A Mischief of Mice

Some­times I look over their small heads (they some­times con­gre­gate right up next to me, hand on my knee, eyes scan­ning the book … before they decide to lie down in the sto­ry cir­cle and roll across the floor … ) and I see the fatigue on their care­givers’ faces. It’s 10:30 in the morn­ing and they’ve already had a pret­ty full day with these bun­dles of ener­gy. I can see the mind numb, the gro­cery list run­ning in their brain’s back­ground, the grat­i­tude for being able to sit in a grown-up chair for a few min­utes … And I think: The adults should get some­thing from sto­ry­time, too. So I read a book that’s maybe more for them than the kids — the humor, the his­tor­i­cal top­ic, the kind of book that makes you take a for­ti­fy­ing breath. It’s extra spe­cial when there’s a book like this that is fas­ci­nat­ing for these wee ones and their adults. And A Mis­chief of Mice by Christie Math­e­son (author and illus­tra­tor) is just such a book.

A mis­chief of mice used to play in these woods.
Then one dusk they just … disappeared.

We count the mice — there are five. And then … they’re gone. The adults smile a less weary smile at the col­lec­tive noun “mis­chief of mice.” Who doesn’t love col­lec­tive nouns? And we are just get­ting going, because all the ani­mals of the for­est join in look­ing for this mis­chief of mice that has so sud­den­ly dis­ap­peared. There’s the scur­ry of squir­rels who fear they could be next. There’s a skulk of fox­es and a gaze of racoons. Even a clut­ter of spi­ders is fea­tured. The slight­ly spooky unkind­ness of ravens must be count­ed, and we hoot like the par­lia­ment of owls. On and on it goes, with these won­der­ful words, these car­ing ani­mals — a prick­le of por­cu­pines, a sleuth of bears, a caul­dron of bats (we count them, too.)

illustration from A Mischief of Mice
illus­tra­tion © Christie Math­e­son, from A Mis­chief of Mice, Source­books Jab­ber­wocky, 2024

The adults are sit­ting up straighter. There is delight on their faces. A gig­gle of chil­dren (my col­lec­tive noun!) press into me, hud­dled around the book to fig­ure out where the mis­chief of mice has gone. I won’t spoil the end­ing, but it is cozy and allays the fear of the scur­ry of squir­rels. A sto­ry­time success!

Check it out — a delight of a book!

Subscribe
Notify of
guest

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

1 Comment
Oldest
Newest
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
David LaRochelle
David LaRochelle
16 days ago

Sounds like a lot of fun!