If you give a mouse a cookie/pig a pancake/moose a muffin/ college student coffee

Greetings!

No politics now. Politics are depressing. Eww.
Tonight (actually, this morning at this point...), I wanted to attack something I've been trying to spit out for a while now. My very own children's book, If You Give a College Student a Cookie.
Don't worry, it's a children's book, so it's %100 PG rated. (Not to be confused with the black-listed angsty teen's book, If You Give a College Student a Very Special Brownie.)

I got the idea for this children's book when I was waiting to speak to my econ professor's office hours. My econ professor happens to be one of the most popular professors in the school, so students consistently wait over an hour to speak with him during office hours. He is kind enough to leave out cookies, soda, and pretzels for any and all students who wait in his office to see him. Now, there are many wonderful things about my econ professor, but let's be real: college students are obsessed with free food. We have a sixth sense that roves for it, constantly. So it occured to me, as I was enjoying a sugar cookie after 45 minutes of waiting, that anyone who gives a college student a cookie has a new best friend.
And that reminded me of a favorite book from the old days.
And so here I go:

If You Give a College Student a Cookie

If you give a college student a cookie,
You've made a friend for life,
But life without caffeine
Is a contradiction in terms, so
She'll desperately need some coffee to go with it.
So, you'll need to walk with her
To the nearest library cafe
Because she doesn't have a car
(Against the rules for freshman),
And she needs to go somewhere that accepts
University plus dollars
Because she has no real money.
You'll walk in the library door,
And she'll see thirty people she knows
Because everyone
Literally everyone
In the world
Hangs out in the library cafe
Because no one
Has cars or money,
So need you to wait in line for her
While she chats with a dozen people
Or so, not counting
The three that are texting her.
When you bring her the coffee,
She'll suddenly remember
At least a million things she'd forgotten
Because life without caffeine
Is an oxymoron
In college. So,
She'll drag you back home
But she won't bring you into her dormroom,
because it's messy
And
That's sketchy
So you'll wait in the common-room.
When she finally comes out
Laptop in hand,
She'll want to go back
To the library, or actually
A bench on the quad, or actually
The field, or...
She will finally settle
For a spot on the library steps
Which seems a good compromise.
She will open her book, and read
For exactly five minutes
About the income elasticity of demand
For milkshakes
Until she tires of econ
And her eyes involuntarily close,
Because higher learning is so very taxing.
She will take a power nap for thirteen minutes
Before a frisbee, skillessly thrown
Grazes her head
And next thing you know
She's up and chasing someone.
When she comes back, she'll be hungry
And she'll ask if you have any more cookies.
You don't, but you recommend returning
To the library cafe, because
Everyone knows
If you give a college student a cookie
You've made a friend for life,
But life is nothing without caffeine, so
She'll desperately need some coffee to go with it.

Not that I'm condoning three-year-olds drinking coffee, of course. Think of it as, I'm preparing them for the real world.