Six Snowy Sheep (Judith Ross Enderle and Stephanie Gordon Tessler, 1994)

Logline:

Six Snowy Sheep disappear number by number into the snow.

London:

I like how there's six snowy sheep drinking hot cocoa on the last page, but I really cannot figure out which one is the one that shoveled them out. It is it the first one, the fourth one or the fifth one? It's not the one with the green hat.

Ben:

I like the way the book proceeds, with the repetition meant to aid young readers and the pentameter setting on thorny, tongue twister mode.

What it would be like to be in this book:

Ben opts to go first. "One word: COLD!" If London were the sheep that dug them out, she would just "get her best friend and her twin brother." (She'd pretty much just leave the rest, she contends.)

Christmas Trolls (Jan Brett, 1994)

Logline:

When Christmas-themed things begin disappearing from the house, Treva sets off to investigate.

London:

I like when Treva gives the trolls her horse and the trolls give Treva their horsey.

Ben:

As is typical of Jan Brett, we get to learn the true meaning - in this case, of Christmas - and the illustrations are the best part. The story lacks gravity, but it remains enjoyable.

What it would be like to be in this book:

"If I were Treva" says London, "I would teach the trolls the real meaning of Christmas. And I would give them five Christmas trees - or two, for their rooms." Ben would probably just hang around the forest until dark, barely noticing the trolls. Ben loves the forest.

Favorite Pages - Ben (week of Dec 12)

This fox is awesome! And the Knoxes, too - - they named their kid Nixie!


A tongue twister AND A bizarre costume! The gifts just keep on giving!


Have you ever seen anyone enjoy a snack with such vigor?! They love it. The just LOVE it.

Favorite Pages - London (week of Dec 12)

Why not 100 instead of 16?



I like the "L's" because my name is London.



I love that Minerva Louise, instead of liking the hat and the scarf, she just sits on the box.

Minerva Louise on Christmas Eve (Janet Morgan Stoeke, 2007)

Logline:

Minerva Louise encounters Santa Claus and is brandishing her typically naive observations.

London:

She doesn't know anything.

Ben:

I love her dry wit. It's so conceptually funny that a hen is off put by every single thing that happens despite not knowing much about anything.

What it would be like to be in this book:

If I were Minerva Louise, London posits, "I would at least know one thing!" Ben is still wondering why she thinks a chimney is a well. It seems like that one - to a farm girl - should be obvious.

Dr. Seuss's "ABC" (Dr. Seuss, 1963)

Logline:

The ABCs are pretty great when you get right down to it. Storied, too.

London:

I like how everything is alliteration'ed.

Ben:

I can't tell you how much I like everything about this book: The illustrations are delightful ("Jim is after him" is downright scary), the random swaths of letters - "spelling ax and extra fox" (why would you need an extra fox?) - and the way the children seem to respond to learning their ABCs.

What it would be like to be in this book:

London says: "If I were David Donald Doo, I would dream of just a duck dog, because I wouldn't have time to dream of a dozen donuts. Also, I would also have the biggest rhinoceros in the whole entire world (just like Rosy). Ben says "Darn tootin', Sammy Slick! Your mother told you that you'd get a belly ache! Why, oh why didn't you listen?"

Hop on Pop (Dr. Seuss, 1963)

Logline:

Many great rhymes encompass a world where young people learn - among other things - not to bounce up and down on their elders.

London:

Too much rhyming! London is proud because she was able to read the entire book with no help whatsoever. And once more, she read it with gusto and vigor.

Ben:

This book is one of my favorites to read the children. It pretty much turns into a rap song by the time I'm done, hitting words and bouncing around like I was DJ Dr. Seuss.

What it would be like to be in this book:

"If I were Dr. Seuss, all the big words would become smaller", states London. Ben worries that, as Pop, he would become the target of a hop. On his belly. Repeatedly.

Bugs Bunny and His Sunburned Ears (Gina Ingoglia, 1990)

Logline:

Bugs Bunny is about to go on vacation when he is suddenly stricken with a horrible case of ear sunburn!

London:

Why does Bugs only choose 16 carrots instead of taking all the carrots in the field? He could pack them in his tummy. Why does the page where Bugs solves his problem - and buys the socks - always end up in every google search? Very popular indeed.

Ben:

It seems to me that Bugs' despondency, initially, is a bit too quick. He's constantly solving life-or-death situations in the cartoons. Why does it take Elmer Fudd's nephew to light the brain bulb?

What it would be like to be in this book:

"If I were Bugs' doctor", London says, "I would demand that Bugs stay inside for a couple of weeks." Ben remarks, "Painful. If there's one thing I can't abide, it's sunburn on the ears."

All Aboard the Circus McGurkus! (Dr. Suess, 1984)

Logline:

Part of the Nursery Collection, its an excerpt from "If I Ran a Circus", trimmed down and presented as a train-ful of goofy rhymes and even goofier creatures.

London:

I like the second page in the whole book that says "The Circus McGurkus! Colossal! Stupendous!" I also like the last page that says "Astounding! Fantastic! Terrific! Tremendous!" Especially "Tremendous" because the whale is tremendous. (Trailing off: This is so cool. This is the coolest book in the world. I miss Dr. S.")

Ben:

This one was also exclusive to London and we loved to say the crazy words. I'm especially fond of the hoodwinks.

What it would be like to be in this book:

"If I was the elephant pulling the train," London details, "I would only go halfway." Ben would be the clown in the bathtub, rolling his eyes as he eavesdrops on the next train where someone, in vain, is trying to rhyme "Walloo" and "Lassoo".

Favorite Pages - Ben (week of Dec 5 2011)

The inference is that the feet themselves are sick, which still doesn't quite explain why you would equate "sick feet" with "bandages". Terrific, befuddling image.



I'm not sure which is more terrifying: The confidence with which the boy asserts that the leopard's fate is under a circus tent or the look of ABSOLUTE HORROR on the face of the little girl, who seems to expect that they will both be eaten whole in the wake of the boy's comment.



I have always wanted to be in that chair, in that hollow, with that fire and that food. And then fall asleep reading that book. Whatever it is. It doesn't matter. Genuine comfort, this.

Favorite Pages -London (week of Dec 5 2011)

I LOVE that she has a doll that looks like her.(Is her doll paper?)(Why is there a spider?)



This is the page that I skipped when I was reading the book. It says it repeatedly in the book: I picked it up, I put it in a cage.



I love that she shows it to the mailman. I mean, she's just a weirdo. Just a weirdo. (Emphatically now, emoting with arms and voice) I also love that she puts the snail in with her shoe on it! She really is a true weirdo.

The Foot Book (Dr.Seuss,1968)

Logline:

Were you aware how many feet there are?

London:

My favorite part about this whole entire book is the fuzzy fur feet. I like More and More Feet, Twenty-four feet. (We did stop to count the feet on this page at one point.)

Ben:

I have a very specific cadence and holy moley have I become a pro at reading this one. One of the most popular books in London and Tori bedtime history.

What it would be like to be in this book:

London says that if she were the "monster" that loosely narrates the book, every single word would rhyme. If Ben were in this book, there'd have to be a page for athlete's foot and one for yellow toenails.

I Was Walking Down the Road (Sarah E. Barchas, 1975)

Logline:

While out for a stroll, a little girl repeatedly stumbles upon very attainable pets. She begins to collect them in cages.

London:

I like when she finds the snail. First she's looking away, then she finds him on her shoe. After that, she shows him to the mailman. Then into the cage, of course. I also like when she sets them free. I like the mouse part because I skipped a page. (Heh-heh, or two!)

Ben:

It's a bit jarring to see all those animals in cages, but it is rather cathartic when she finally comes to her senses and let's em all out. Really inventive ways to entrap animals abound. Jack Kent illustrations typically awesome.

What it would be like to be in this book:

London says, "If I was the little girl, I would not set the animals free. But I would set the spider free. Ew. Or maybe kill it." Ben would enjoy seeing these animals, but the better cage is a digital photo.

Put Me in the Zoo (Robert Lopshire, 1960)

Logline:

A magical leopard does tricks, making his case for residency in the zoo.

London:

I like that on the last page, you can see The Cat in the Hat in the crowd. I like that the leopard can put his spots anywhere he wants.

Ben:

I like the rhythmic, fun-to-read structure of the sentences - par for Beginner Books' course - and story about a leopard who WANTS to get in the zoo and then, is relegated to THE CIRCUS. Neither seem like great prospects, but I suppose the subtext is about embracing whatever situation comes down the pike.

What it would be like to be in this book:

"I would go in the zoo. They would let me in because I would be the cutest leopard in the world. I would want all different kinds of colors [for my spots], but mostly blue, because that's my favorite color," says London. Ben hopes to use his awesome storybook super powers to entertain people, gain access to travel the world, and spread my message of peace and love. Or something.

Too Much Noise (Ann McGovern, 1967)

Logline:

Peter's house is noisy and the wise man of the village has a plan to change that.

London:

I like the illustrations because they are that monochromatic orange, keeping to one color scheme.

Ben:

Talk about taking the long way around! Animals abound and then - pow! - suddenly you don't mind three of the most annoying noises of all time: Creaking bed, squeaking floor and the leaves falling on the roof. I mean, really. This is one of those books where everything is repeated and the effect is, in effect, the very matter of life: Do it til its done, no matter how much barnyard you gotta bring in.

What it would be like to be in this book:

"If I were Peter, I'd just get the cat and the dog and be satisfied", posits London. Ben, however, would probably just say never mind when the wise man of the village suggested he get all those animals and, instead, ask if he could borrow one of sed wise man's books.

Mouse Soup (Arnold Lobel, 1977)

Logline:

After being caught by a weasel, a mouse buys time with four stories that he insists will make the Mouse Soup taste better.

London:

I like the story called "The Thorn Bush" because the old lady wants the thorn bush to live, and if the flowers really grew, I'd keep them for myself. And I love how at the end of the story, it says the mouse "finished reading his book". Just like us!

Ben:

Lobel's preachy, but not in a bad way; Its no wonder that he also did a book of Aesop's Fables: Everything has a moral. But luckily, everything is also very simple and I love the framing device (and I usually HATE framing devices). He's a masterful illustrator.

What it would be like to be in this book:

London says, "If I were that mouse with the beehive on my head, I wouldn't take it as easy as the mouse in the story does; I would take it off my head and throw it in the mud, bees and all!" She went on to say that if she was the tall stone, she would try "hopping" to see what was on the other side. If she were the cricket, she would put large ears on her head so she could hear the mouse (I wouldn't just bring a friend. And another friend. And five more friends!) If I were the old lady, I would ask the policeman to pull out the thorn bush. Ben would be looking over his shoulder in a sweaty paranoia the whole way back to his safe tree home because you don't want to cross a weasel!

Favorite Pages - Ben (Week of Nov. 27, 2011)

I love the futility of what's happening. (Inexplicably, this method and the small cage the zookeeper leads the bear out with, somehow don't manage to result in the poor man's death.) The bear, who was sleeping comfortably, just seems okay with it. It's a visual contradiction.



The grocer's smart alecky wit aside, what's important to keep in mind is that Benjamin knows that the watermelon means pressure and responsibility - getting it home without it being destroyed by his femme fatale arch nemesis - and the levity upon which the grocer draws probably doesn't help. Also, I like that the warthog is the grocer. Because it just makes sense.



Mr. Plumbean is in a blissful state of peace and happiness. And his house looks AWESOME. Bottoms up!

Favorite Pages - London (week of Nov. 27, 2011)

First, they're fighting all the time but at the end of the book, they're just (makes spitting noises) spitting seeds!



I like that Santa sees them when they think they're going to see Santa. (Irony?)



Mr. Plumbean's house looks like an absolute jungle. And I love it!

The Big Orange Splot (Daniel Manus Pinkwater, 1977)

Logline:

Mr. Plumbean lives on "neat street" where all the houses are the same, until one day when a seagull drops a can of orange paint on his house and changes his way of thinking.

London:

This was my first time reading this book. Long, but funny. I like when Mr. Plumbean talks everyone into thinking their dreams and liking him (because he's different).

Ben:

While I knew this book as a child, its strange disappearance from my parents' house kept me from sharing it with Victoria and London. I finally decided that I was going to buy it ($1.77!) and WOW, what a doozy. A terrific comment on non-conformity. What's fascinating about Pinkwater's approach is the sense of fate: A random occurrence sets off his sea change, and not violently; He becomes ensconced in his dreams, which belies individuality, but also the childlike "daydream". Mr. Plumbean doesn't call out the sleeping sheep that are his neighbors as the self conscious crowd who can't afford to risk critique. Instead, as they approach him, he merely explains - over lemonade - where he's coming from. Everything seems calm and safe, like children learning in a classroom.

What it would be like to be in this book:

"If I were Mr. Plumbean", London says, "I wouldn't bother painting my house. I'd do what I want and nobody tells me what to do." Ben simply believes he is Mr. Plumbean. Now if only I could afford some paint...

Lambert, the Sheepish Lion (Walt Disney Productions, 1977)

Logline:

Raised by sheep, Lambert the Lion finds courage when he must, despite being an outcast in the group.

London:

I've seen the movie based upon this book (in library at school). I like when Mrs. Sheep head butts Mr. Stork.

Ben:

This was the first time I have ever read this book. (Which is a rarity for these pages, but certainly doesn't break any rules.) Pretty harmless, certainly enjoyable, and without question, a valuable fable.

What it would be like to be in this book:

If she were Lambert, London said she would butt that thing - presumably the wolf - right in the head. Ben would probably be the character the stork blamed for the accounting error that caused the whole lion-in-sheep's-clothing mess in the first place.

Benjamin & Tulip (Rosemary Wells, 1973)

Logline:

Constantly bullied by Tulip, Benjamin comes to grips with his tormentor in an incident involving a watermelon.

London:

I like when Benjamin goes to the store and the grocer asks him if he wants any soap. (Pause for Ben to explain that gag to London. London laughs because "Now I get it!")

Ben:

This was a childhood favorite of mine. I used to get it out of the library almost every week. As a small child myself, the story spoke to me. I had many Tulips over the years. What I really needed, apparently, was a watermelon and a broken tree branch. (Side-note: My old babysitter rescued the very copy I used to get out of the library - were they going out of business? - and it is the copy London and I have been sharing ever since.)

What it would be like to be in this book:

Instead of hurting people, like Benjamin, London posits that she "would sleep". I would probably follow a similarly passive aggressive course of action as the title character with whom I share a name. But the coveralls would be the real prize.

I've Seen Santa (David Bedford, 2005)

Logline:

Little Bear keeps thinking he sees Santa, only to find out that his parents want to see Santa just as badly as he does.

London:

London notes that there is a mouse on every page. (And then proceeds to play "Where's Waldo?" with the rest of the book.)

Ben:

I like Big Bear a whole lot because he reminds me of Homer Simpson. Little Bear is deeply inquisitive and the book clearly acts as a mirror to the experience of a young person in the throes of Santa fever.

What it would be like to be in this book:

London says that if "[I] was baby bear, I would talk even more. I wouldn't stay up to see Santa, I would probably just [makes sleeping noises]". Ben thinks he would probably fixate on the wee blueberry pies and would definitely be asleep before London.

Nobody Listens to Andrew (Elizabeth Guilfoile, 1964)

Logline:

Nobody Listens to Andrew! (Repeatedly.)

London:

There's a bear in Andrew's bed but nobody listens to Andrew. If I had to pick out of all of them, I think I would pick Ruthy as my favorite. Or Andrew.

Ben:

Always spirited when I read the book, but its hackneyed to the last (I mean, a black bear doesn't, you know, eat all of them?) Also, I picture Andrew betraying the goodwill he earned by having been wronged a la the changeover at the end: "Next Time We Will Listen to Andrew..." I picture him being even more encourageable than he already is. This book is, after all, "The Boy Who Who Cried Wolf" without *seeing* the previous crying. It's merely implied that everyone regards him as a pest.

What it would be like to be in this book:

If I was Andrew, London says, I would have been more annoying, perhaps even hurting everybody to get their attention. Ben would likely have been the bumbling zookeeper, tasked with herding a bear out of a two-story house and to the local zoo using only a tiny net and an awkward, seemingly useless cage. And I would have been eaten as soon as everybody turned their heads and the book had ended.

Favorite Pages - Ben (week of Nov. 20, 2011)

The perspective of the rubber duck on the cresting wave gives the bathtub its own independent space, while George's small, one-cannon boat transcends being a toy and becomes a indispensable vessel of high seas adventure. Like most of his "shrunk" scenes, there is a heightened sense of drama that mixes with a grounded aplomb. *We* know he's dreaming, but there's just the slightest hint of doubt that *he* knows it.



I mean, it's cute and everything that Humphrey's mom ties his jim-jam pants' pullstring with her trunk, but the thing that makes me smile great and large is the term "jim-jams" itself: We adopted it immediately and it stuck with mad staying power.



When we would come to this page during the nightly heyday of "Go, Dog. Go!", London would always stop me (even if I were in a rhythm and had moved on to the next page) and ask me, pointedly - like it was the first time every time - what the dog with the hat was. She just couldn't figure out why he was there, why he had a hat on and who knows what else. She was comprehending things brilliantly, but this was like a tear in the fabric of logic: She. Just. Had. To. Know. Every time.

Favorite Pages - London (week of Nov. 20, 2011)

The hippopotamus looks funny. My dad and I always do this part together.



It looks like a jungle. The water coming down from the hose looks like a waterfall. It's so pretty!



The toy that he decides to buy looks exactly like him. Like a mini him. Just with no tail.

Just Like Jasper (Nick Butterworth, Mick Inkpen, 1989)

Logline:

A cat named Jasper takes his birthday money to a toy store and looks at lots of toys.

London:

This cat looks a lot like my aunt and uncle's cat and his name is Jasper, too. He is the softest kitty on earth.

Ben:

This was one of the last books of the bedtime era, purchased just a few years ago by my mother, probably very much in honor of my brother's cat, Jasper, who - inexplicably - looks just like the title character. (Or, I guess, the other way around.)

[12/12/11: "As I bit of clarification, I loved Jasper long before Matt had his Jasper. It was a big book that I used with the last reading series I taught; I loved those two Brits (Nick Butterworth and Mick Inkpen...only Brits have those names!) and their illustrations. The books are so simple, but the kids really loved Jasper. - Susan Trout"]

What it would be like to be in this book:

If I had birthday money to blow and I was a cat, I'd probably just buy a whole mess of cat treats. (Although, if I were me, Ben, I'd want to look at the toy store's selection of Star Wars figures first.) If London were a cat (Jasper), "I would take all the birthday money and buy a bunch of pet mice. But, if I were me - London - I would probably just go look at all the candy."

Humphrey's Bedtime (Sally Hunter, 2001)

Logline:

Mama puts Humphrey to bed while Lottie does the same thing with her babies.

London:

This was one of my dad's absolute favorites. I like when Bear gets lost because my nickname is bear.

Ben:

"Jim-Jams on" helped us originate that term around the house. The nuance of language and insight into familial dynamics is really keen; This was a hot book for us to read around the time things were really stressful at ITT, and I can remember really taking solace in the warmth of Sally Hunter's World of Humphrey (both in this book and the other one we have). And we read it nearly every night.


What it would be like to be in this book:

The pleasure of childhood activities - the joy of simple things like baths and stories - would really appeal to Ben. (Being a child again, by the way, would also really appeal to Ben. Even if he had to be an elephant.) London would also really love to be an elephant because it appears - based on the logic of the book - that she would only drink warm milk and eat buttery toast for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Go, Dog. Go! (P.D. Eastman, 1961)

Logline:

Extremely active dogs participate in opposite-driven actions including playing, running, jumping, driving and, of course, partying.

London:

Every night when I was one through five my dad used to read this book to me. In the party part, my eyes used to get really big.

Ben:

(And don't forget, London, about the dog with a hat that you always used to ask "What is that?!" Like it was the first time I was ever telling someone about a dog with a hat: "A dog with a hat," I'd say.) I all but had this one memorized at one point in time. We read it - literally - every night. I can't express the joy and fondness I recall in having the opportunity to read this to such a delighted little audience.

What it would be like to be in this book:

London said she would drive faster than all of the other cars. Ben wouldn't get up when the lead dog said "Time to get up!" (He'd slink under the bed and continue to snooze.)

George Shrinks (William Joyce, 1985)

Logline:

George imagines himself shrunk down to action-figure size while doing some chores.

London:

I like when he goes in to water the plants because it looks like a jungle.

Ben:

Simple is the game here: The story is concise, a fool's paradise of miniature riffs (all of them clever, particularly the naval battle in the bathtub). This book started with London - I had never read it prior to that, despite it being a bestseller the year my younger brother was born - and made an easy choice most nights: It was short, and she was dazzled by the pictures. (Come to think of it: This will make "Pages of the Week" a difficult choice for both of us.)

What it would be like to be in this Book:

London is still dreaming of watering the plants so she can prance among their massive stems. This book was made to ponder "what-if" scenarios. In fact, the whole thing has that Is-it-a-dream? quality. I'd read a whole book of his interactions with the pets.

Mr. Brown Can Moo! Can You? (Dr. Seuss, 1970)

Logline:

Mr. Brown makes a number of noises while rhyming.

London:

When I was little and my Dad used to read it, we would do the "Grum, Grum, Grum, Grum, Grum, Grum" part together.

Ben:

Actually, I feel like we got to the point where were both doing the noises - which I think is the point. I remember Victoria, similarly, getting swept up in the fun of reciting these wonderful rhyming clicks and pops. (I also believe this copy of the book is Victoria's as she has scrawled her name in the front.)

What It Would Be Like to Be In This Book:

London says she wouldn't do any of the noises correctly and Ben is a little concerned about the lightning part. Mr. Brown just strikes me as careless. All that lollygagging and what not.