One very happy pig is taking a bubble bath with just his rubber ducky. Then comes Pig Two with a beach ball, followed by Pig Three with a snorkel and mask, then a pig pirate, a pig with a tuba, a sailor pig with his toy ship, another pig with a sandcastle, and finally a pig with a surf board.

Then, just as quickly as the tub filled, the tub empties. Enter one wolf, with a BIG zipper down his chest. A pig in wolf’s clothing, now in the bath with the bubbles and his rubber ducky.

Hilarious fun in board book form!

I would like it better if it were about grandparents than I do with it being about Dad.  Grandparents are supposed to spoil kids.  Dads are supposed to parents, and this book feeds into the stereotype of Mom being the real parent, and Dad getting to be the loafer.  When Mom is gone for the evening,  and Dad is in charge, Clare keeps trying to tell her dad how Mom would do things, but he keeps saying he’s doing it Dad’s way, which includes more fun, desert for dinner, and extra stories and kisses before bed, so of course Clare ends the story by asking if Dad can be in charge again tomorrow.

A fox mom tells her kiddos all things they are to her, in a series of endearments that all end in, “boo.”  It’s got rhythm and rhyme and repetition.  The illustrations add a sense of story as they move through their day, making the point, that no matter what happens, “you will always be my boo.”

The entire text of the book amounts to a spin-off of “Marco Polo:” a toddler calls out, “Rutabaga?” and Mom replies with “Boo.” The illustrations are nice enough as they show the two going through their day, but there doesn’t ever seem to emerge any real meaning behind the call and response, nor enough of a story within the illustrations to count as a (nearly) wordless book.

It’s cute.  It tells of all a young boy imagines about what his folks get up to “way past bedtime.”  He makes plans to stay up and spy, to catch them in the act, but when he creeps downstairs he finds them snoring on the couch.  However the final illustrations offer the reader hints that perhaps those sneaky parents had been up to more than they let on.  The illustrations have the look of television cartoons, which makes sense when you read the illustrator’s blurb, as that is his background.

As with other Mr. King stories, he takes some idea too far, aiming for good, but learning from his friends about why it turns out to be not a good idea after all.  In this case, Mr. King likes flowers, but he doesn’t like when the caterpillars eat them, so he builds a machine to chase down and capture the caterpillar, only to learn that the smoke spit out my his machine and the plants it trampled were bigger problems, especially given that he neglected to ponder the benefits the caterpillar offers to the flowers once he turns into a butterfly.  So he turns his caterpillar-catching machine into a seed scattering machine that operates on smoke-free breath power.

It’s a bedtime counting book told in rhyme.  The illustrations add to the bedtime quality of the book, with lots of shades and blue and purple and green, and soft blurry edges that make them seem sleepy.  It counts back from ten, with good rhythm and rhyme and alliteration describing a variety of animals on their way to bed.

The themes of the poems are all relatable and humorous, but the quality of the poetry is somewhat erratic:  some poems read smoothly with both rhythm and rhyme, while others seemed forced and awkward to read aloud.  The cartoonish illustrations suit the tone of the poems.

This is a beautiful book, with rich illustrations that serve well to set the scene and the tone of a story with a very timeless feel to it, with a classic Christmas message.  A young boy sets off with meager provisions to make a long trek to the village square for the traditional lighting of the Christmas torch, an honor that will be granted to whoever gives the truest gift of Christmas.  Along the way he meets an old man huddling in the snow.  He leaves his cloak and cider to warm the old man while he seeks help from someone strong enough to lift him, but when he gets to the village they are already closing the city gates, and no one is willing to leave, as the ceremony is about to begin.  After all the Christmas offerings are made the Keeper of the Light takes down his hood and invites the young boy forward to light the torch, as he is none other than the old man the boy helped in the woods.

This is a beautiful book.  It’s the kind you want to buy three copies of so that you always have a baby shower gift on hand.  It is a love poem between mother and child, sharing all the hopes and dreams a mother holds for her child.  It shares small bits of wisdom and advice.  The illustrations are beautiful and whimsical and are well-paired with the text.