Fortunately, the Milk – Neil Gaiman (2013)

Fortunately, the Milk by Neil Gaiman, published in 2013, is a wildly imaginative and humorous children’s adventure novel, delightfully illustrated by Skottie Young. The story revolves around a father’s fantastical explanation for why he was late returning home from the store with a bottle of milk. With a narrative that spins wildly through time and space, it offers a playful tribute to the art of storytelling, complete with pirates, aliens, vampires, and time-traveling dinosaurs.

Plot Summary

There was no milk in the fridge. Only orange juice, ketchup, and the suspicious option of pickle juice. Breakfast was impossible. Mum had gone off to a lizard conference, leaving clear instructions for Dad to manage everything – orchestra practice, frozen dinners, and most crucially, to pick up milk. Dad, being a man of vague attentiveness and deep newspaper absorption, had nodded through her list. So when the milk crisis struck, he gallantly offered to walk to the corner shop.

He left. Time passed. More time passed. A suspicious amount of time passed. His children began to wonder whether he had run off to a faraway land or perhaps been kidnapped by aliens. When he finally returned, windswept and late, he had the milk – and an explanation far stranger than they could have imagined.

He had bought the milk, exchanged a few pleasantries with Mr. Ronson, and was about to head home when a great, hovering silver disc appeared in the sky above Marshall Road. Before he could say thummthumm, he was sucked into the spaceship by a shimmering beam. The aliens aboard – globby, green, and thoroughly unpleasant – demanded Earth’s surrender, threatening to summon his worst enemies. Luckily, a sign reading “EMERGENCY EXIT – DO NOT OPEN FOR ANY REASON – THIS MEANS YOU!” was too tempting to ignore. He opened it, leapt out, and fell.

Into the ocean.

Rescued by pirates, he found himself accused of being a walrus, a spy, or possibly a mermaid. But his milk saved him. He pointed to the bottle and declared that he must have come from the corner shop. Even pirates were stunned into silence by the logic of milk. Still, they were not inclined to let him go. They offered a choice: join the crew or be thrown to the fishes. But he suggested a third option – walking the plank, a proper pirate tradition. Curious, the pirates allowed it.

Perched above the swirling sea, about to fall, he was saved again – this time by a rope ladder descending from a hot-air balloon. Climbing aboard, he found the pilot was not a man, but a stegosaurus. Not just any stegosaurus, but an inventor, traveling in his Floaty-Ball-Person-Carrier with a time machine constructed from a cardboard box, jewels, pebbles, and one large red button. Professor Steg, as he called himself, was on a quest to explore time, and offered to help the father get home.

The red button was pressed. Time spun. Sky flickered from night to day to night. They landed in the jungle, on what turned out to be a temple platform. The locals – stern, knife-bearing, and mid-sacrifice – believed them to be divine arrivals. A prophecy had promised that a man and a spiny-backed creature would descend with milk and should not be sacrificed but gifted with the Eye of Splod – an enormous green emerald lodged in the temple’s volcanic god. They were led up the mountain and given the gem, just as smoke began to erupt. But as they escaped in the balloon, the father dropped the milk.

It landed, of all places, atop Splod’s forehead. Another balloon appeared. A man descended, replaced the Eye, grabbed the milk, and vanished. Defeated and milkless, the father was inconsolable. Professor Steg pressed the button again.

They landed in the far, far future – or possibly the very distant past. A second green gem embedded in a weathered carving of Splod awaited them. Retrieving it, the father was greeted by a herd of intelligent, brightly-colored ponies. Clever, fashionable, and entirely calm about the collapsing volcano beside them, they offered him prophecy-free wisdom. With their help, he got the gem and returned to the balloon, narrowly avoiding lava.

Onward again. This time, the sky was filled with bats. Or not bats, but vampires – or rather, wumpires. Pale and pointy-toothed, they expressed great interest in breakfast and an alarming fondness for eating fathers. The time machine was mistaken for a sandwich box. The button was pressed, launching them into sunlight. The wumpires vaporized in oily smoke.

Before they could reset the controls, a hand burst through space, snatched the milk, and vanished. The father despaired. But the hand returned, hurling the milk into his stomach with perfect aim. Encouraged, he prepared for the final jump home.

But the aliens returned.

Their flying saucer, their padlocked door to the space-time continuum, their decorative-plate obsession – all intact. This time they summoned everyone: pirates, jungle tribes, the volcano god Splod, wumpires, even piranhas. A perfect cosmic showdown. Escape was impossible, the time machine depowered.

So the father made a choice. He asked Professor Steg to open a window in time – just enough to reach into the past. Through it, he grabbed the earlier version of the milk, so now he held two bottles – one from fifteen minutes ago, one from now. He threatened to let them touch.

The aliens panicked. According to all transtemporal meta-science (and Splod, who subscribed to many learned journals), if two identical objects from different points in time touched, the universe would end. Or, less likely, three purple dwarfs with flowerpots on their heads would dance in the street.

Faced with universal annihilation, the aliens gave up. Everyone else vanished. Peace returned. But then came flashing lights, sirens, and the arrival of the Galactic Police – dinosaurs, armed and in uniform. They arrested the aliens for interstellar crimes against good taste. But they also recognized Professor Steg, famous inventor, author, and dignitary of dinosaur science. She was welcomed with awe.

The milk, of course, accidentally touched itself. The universe did not end. Instead, three flowerpot-wearing dwarfs danced a jig, kicked their legs, shouted pertung, and disappeared. The portal reopened. The milk was tossed back to its proper moment in time, caught again in the father’s stomach.

Photographs were taken. Songs were sung. Professor Steg was praised and serenaded before departing with the space police dinosaurs to continue her adventures. The father declined to donate the milk to a museum. He had other plans for it.

He returned home. Stepped in through the kitchen door. Placed the milk on the table.

And went back to reading his paper.

Main Characters

• The Father – A seemingly ordinary dad whose mission to fetch milk turns into an epic saga across time and space. He’s inventive, composed under pressure, and proves surprisingly resourceful, weaving a tale so bizarre it leaves his children skeptical. His primary motivation is returning home with the milk for his children’s breakfast, but his journey shows him as a brave and imaginative adventurer.

• Professor Steg – A talking, balloon-flying, time-traveling Stegosaurus who becomes the father’s companion. With his scientific mind and peculiar vocabulary (naming objects with overly descriptive titles), he adds a delightful layer of whimsy. His floating “Floaty-Ball-Person-Carrier” and belief in dinosaur futurism inject the story with both charm and absurdity.

• The Children – The unnamed narrator and his younger sister serve as the listeners of the tale. While they are largely passive within the adventure, their incredulity and sarcastic interjections ground the story in reality and mirror the reader’s own doubts and wonder.

• The Alien Snot Glob Monsters – These grumpy, blobby beings attempt to conquer Earth and remodel it with decorative plates and scented candles. They represent the story’s peak absurdity and are ultimately thwarted by the paradoxical threat of two identical milk cartons touching.

• Queen of the Pirates, Wumpires, Jungle Tribesmen, and Splod – Each fantastical character or creature encountered on the father’s journey provides a new setting, conflict, or humorous misunderstanding, all of which test the father’s resolve to deliver the milk.

Theme

• The Power of Storytelling – At its heart, the novel is a celebration of the storyteller’s art. The father’s elaborate tale is filled with exaggerations and impossibilities, showing how stories can captivate, entertain, and even mystify listeners. The boundary between truth and fiction becomes delightfully blurred.

• Parental Devotion – Beneath the farce and fantasy is a simple tale of a father’s commitment to his children. The milk, ordinary and mundane, becomes a symbol of care and effort, and his return, triumphant and surreal, echoes the idea that parents often go to absurd lengths for their kids.

• Time Travel and Circular Logic – Gaiman plays with paradoxes and the absurdity of time loops. The concept of milk being both lost and retrieved through a space-time window humorously explores causality and coincidence, all while maintaining a childlike sense of awe.

• Imagination vs. Reality – The children’s skepticism contrasts with the father’s wild yarn, making readers question what’s real. This theme reinforces the joy of imaginative thinking and the idea that reality may not always be as rigid as it seems.

Writing Style and Tone

Neil Gaiman’s writing style in Fortunately, the Milk is playful, rhythmic, and delightfully whimsical. He employs a conversational, almost oral storytelling tone, fitting for a father recounting an unbelievable tale to his children. The prose is filled with inventive language, comical dialogue, and spontaneous, absurdist humor that recalls the tall tales of Roald Dahl and the creative liberties of Douglas Adams. The use of repetition, exaggerated adjectives, and onomatopoeia enhances the rhythm and makes it easily engaging for young readers.

Gaiman’s tone is irreverent and jubilant, yet always affectionate. The narrative is laced with self-aware humor, ironic asides, and quick-witted exchanges that reflect both the absurd nature of the tale and the loving dynamic between the storyteller and his skeptical audience. There’s an undercurrent of sincerity beneath the nonsense – a warmth that makes the tale not just an exercise in imagination but also a testament to the love between a father and his children.