Milton Recommends

"Mother was Milton’s greatest publicity agent, telling the world of his Triumph overcoming his fear of birds, his frequent failures at bedwetting, and his progress in bell choir. But – “Oh no, thank you,” Milton recalled her declining on those thousand occasions when a hostess offered a tray. “Milton doesn't like_____.” Maraschino cherries, seedless grapes, watermelon, lemon pound cake, pigs in a blanket, jordan almonds, macaroons. When he was young, Milton would reach for the tray, its lofty contents held out of sight, eager to grab whatever was hidden there and shove it into his curious mouth. Crudites, porcupines, hair gel, it didn't matter; he wanted it. But it always ended the same way. A gentle but firm hand, his mother's hand, folding his fingers into hers and holding them in her lap. “You don't like those things,” Mother would remind him if he fussed, “don't you remember?”

Milton has lived for 38 years without making a decision or forming an opinion for himself. His life is defined by routine, and his routine is dictated by his mother. Mother and Milton share everything: a home, schedule, a trivia team, and they live restricted to a preset list of tastes and habits.

One day Milton tries pineapple juice – something Mother has told him that he doesn't like – and discovers that Mother was wrong. He loves pineapple juice. Milton begins to see his life in an entirely new light and realizes that it's time for him to make his own decisions…

…by whatever means necessary.