The Weasel and The Mice

Once upon a time, in a place not too far from where fairy tales happen, there waddled an old weasel. Imagine a weasel who's not as quick as he used to be, with creaky joints and teeth that aren't as sharp anymore. But don't get fooled; his brain was still top-notch.

"You know, back in my day, I was the fastest weasel ever!" he'd tell anyone who'd listen. But now, catching lunch was more about being clever than quick.

One day, he saw a sack of flour in a mill nearby. A big idea popped into his head! "If I can't be the fastest, maybe I can look like something else?" he wondered. He jumped into the flour and came out looking like a round, chubby mouse. "Good enough," he chuckled to himself.

Humming a happy song, our 'mouse' wiggled toward the home of some real mice. The little ones, not knowing any better, cheered, "Yay, a new friend! Come on in!"

But there, in the back corner, was the oldest mouse, sipping some tea like wise old folks do. He squinted and sniffed. "That doesn't look or smell like any mouse I know."

So, he said, "Ah, a newcomer! Wonderful! Now, we always welcome new friends with a bath. Would you like to join?"

The weasel, thinking this was a special mousey welcome, happily said yes. But whoosh! The moment he hit the water, the flour washed right off.

The mice scurried away, squeaking, "Run, run, run!"

The weasel, now wet and no longer disguised, sighed, "Well, that didn't go as planned."

And so, the little mice learned a big lesson that day: Always listen to the ones who've been around the block a few times.

In a village not so far away,
Lived a weasel, old and gray.
His joints would groan, his teeth grew blunt,
But his brain still worked its cunning stunt.

He saw a sack in the old mill's door,
Filled with flour, right to the core.
"If I can't chase," he thought with glee,
"I'll trick those mice, just wait and see!"

He rolled in flour, till snowy white,
Looking like a mouse, oh, what a sight!
Towards the mice’s hole, he did creep,
Dreaming of a meal before his sleep.

Young mice cheered, "A guest, hurray!"
But the eldest mouse kept him at bay.
He squinted his eyes and sniffed the air,
"This isn't right," he said with care.

"Dear newcomer," the old mouse said with grace,
"It's our tradition, a welcoming embrace.
A bath we take, to cleanse and cheer,
Would you join us, have no fear?"

The weasel thought, "What harm can it do?"
But as the water touched, his cover blew.
The flour washed away, his disguise was done,
The mice saw the truth and began to run.

Away they scampered, safe from his trick,
Trusting the wise mouse, quick and slick.
And so they learned, as the days unfurled,
Always trust the wisdom of the older world.