The Cookie Thief

He got a ball of string, and the little brass bell from the Christmas box. He tied the little brass bell to the cookie jar lid and let it dangle just below the counter. Then, with a shake, shake, shake, he sprinkled flour all over the kitchen floor. “Footprints,” he told the dog, “whoever it is, they'll leave footprints.”

The dog sneezed — achoo! Leo hid under the kitchen table with a blanket, a flashlight, and a very important face. The kitchen was dark, and the clock went tick… tick… tick… Leo waited so long that his eyes began to close, and his head began to nod…

Tinkle. Leo's eyes flew open! Click — Leo swung his flashlight at the counter. The lid of the cookie jar was off… but nobody was there.

Then Leo saw them in the flour — tiny footprints, with three toes. And they were still being made… pat… pat… pat… “HEY!” shouted Leo. The footprints stopped — and then they ran!

Leo chased them out of the kitchen and down the hall! Behind the sofa came a tiny “oof!” Leo climbed onto the sofa on all fours and peered behind it. Fresh three-toed prints scampered out from under the sofa, straight to the cupboard beneath the stairs, whose door clicked shut.

The footprints went under the stairs, and Leo flung the cupboard door wide open! Boots… wellies… a broken umbrella… and at the very back… …a tiny round door, no higher than Leo's knee, shut tight. Leo tugged the little door open, got down on his hands and knees, and crawled through.

On the other side was a tiny, round, cozy room, with a candle in a jam jar and a rug made from a lost sock. And sitting on the rug, holding two cookies, was… a monster! It was purple, and fuzzy, with three toes on each foot — and it was only as big as a teapot. Behind it, in a nest made from a woolly hat, three even smaller monsters squeaked, “Hungry! Hungry! Hungry!”

“You,” said Leo, “you're the cookie thief!” “I'm Crumb,” it croaked, “and I'm sorry, and I'll put them back.” Crumb held out the two cookies, and Leo saw that both had bites taken out of them. “You can't put them back now you've bitten them,” said Leo.

“Oh,” said Crumb, looking at the cookies, “then I'm very sorry.” “Hungry!” cried the three little ones again. “There's a whole fridge, so why don't you eat something else?” asked Leo. “We're cookie monsters, and we eat cookies because that's what we are,” said Crumb.

“We used to live in a bakery,” Crumb said softly, “where the cookie jars were always full.” “But one night the bakery closed, and only crumbs were left behind.” “So we walked and walked, all through the night, down one quiet street after another.” “Then we came by your house… and it smelled of cookies.”

Leo scooted onto the rug, and the three little ones climbed straight into his lap to chew his pajama buttons. “You could have asked,” said Leo. “Monsters don't ask,” said Crumb, “it isn't allowed.” “Who says?” asked Leo — and Crumb opened its mouth… then closed it again.

“Well, I'm asking,” said Leo, “do you want some cookies?” “…Yes?” They tiptoed into the kitchen, one boy and four monsters, when — click — the light went on! Dad stood by the table, and looked at the flour, and the string, and the bell… and at Leo.

“Hello,” said the purple, fuzzy thing on Leo's shoulder. Dad panicked and sat down on a kitchen chair, very suddenly — plop! “I told you it wasn't me,” said Leo. Dad looked from Leo to the four hungry monsters and said, “Let's bake enough for everyone.”

So they mixed the dough at the table — Dad stirred, Leo poured sugar, Crumb cracked eggs, and the little ones tipped in flour with such a commotion that the sleeping dog woke up! The little ones sat on the counter and stared at the oven, and did not blink once. DING went the oven, and out came forty-eight warm cookies! The monsters ate eleven each, Leo and Dad had one each, and the dog got the crumbs, which was fair.

“Better?” asked Leo, and Crumb, lying flat on its back with its tummy in the air, said, “Better.” In the morning, Dad taped a new note to the cookie jar: Please take two each, and leave one for Leo. That night, Leo lay snug in bed, listening… Tinkle, tinkle — the little bell rang!

Pat, pat, pat... went tiny feet, back down the hall. And a small, croaky voice came right through the wall: “Thank you.”