Little Oink by Amy Krouse Rosenthal

Just like eating vegetables (Little Pea) and bedtimes (Little Hoot), cleaning the bedroom can be a major point of contention between parents and children.  As Little Oink grumbles, “When I grow up, I’m going to let my kids clean up their rooms as much as they want."

His friends are allowed to clean their rooms.  Socks neatly folded and organized by color.  Blocks alphabetized.  But not so in his house.  Proper pigs know how to make a proper mess.  His father can paint a picture and leave paint all over the floor.  His mother can water the plants and manage to spill water and potting soil.  There are half eaten sandwiches and piles of dirty laundry on the floor in Little Oink’s house.

He’d better get after it before his parents get angry.  Bed?  Unmade.  Clothes?  Unfolded.  T-Shirt?  Stained.  He even dragged in some mud for good measure.

Good enough?  “I still see toys in their bin, mister,” says his dad, “Please – Not another word until this room’s a total pigsty.”

Finally, finally, Little Oink manages to make a complete mess of things – to the great delight of his piggy parents.  And finally, finally, he’s able to do what every little piggy wants to do:

Get out the broom.  Get out the scrub brush.  Don’t forget the wash basin.  It’s time to play house.

While Amy Krouse Rosenthal and Jen Corace’s latest book probably won’t have kids organizing their sock drawers or scrubbing the floor, they will certainly get them (and their parents) giggling as they read the antics of Little Oink and his parents.  And really, which one’s more important?

Little Hoot by Amy Krouse Rosenthal

So after you get your Little Pea to choke down his candy, what challenge could yet remain for the evening? You've already gotten him to finish his dinner - welcome to the clean plate club! - what more could be coming?

Bedtime.

Now Little Hoot doesn't give his parents any grief about school. He enjoys playing hide-n-seek with his buddies. He even practices his pondering and staring like a good little hoot ought. But bedtime is a different story.

To parents, bedtime is set. Big hand here + little hand there = bedtime. That's just the way it is. Little Hoot is like little hoots everywhere. Bedtime means negotiation. Out come the tactics, tried and true. "All my other friends get to go to bed so much earlier than me! Why do I always have to stay up and play? It's not fair!"

His parents remind him about being a wise old owl and the importance of staying up late. "And besides, I don't give a hoot what time your friends go to bed," his father says while pouring his evening coffee. "Stay up and play for one more hour and then you can go to sleep," says his mother.

A whole hour?!? Before getting to go to bed?!? Life is so unfair.

Playing swords, climbing on the jungle gym, building forts, jumping in piles of leaves, jumping on the bed - Little Hoot can only take it for so long! All this playing, playing, playing! Finally, woo-whooooo! It's bedtime. Before his parents can come with a glass of water and a pile of bedtime books, Little Hoot is out.

Amy Krouse Rosenthal's Little Hoot will match Little Pea in giggles as kids recognize how Little Hoot's bedtime is the opposite of theirs and learn that no matter when bedtime comes, it is always a struggle.

Little Pea by Amy Krouse Rosenthal

This is a book for families with their own Little Pea.

Little Pea likes rolling down hills super fast. He hangs out with his pea pals. In Little Pea's life there are swings and snuggles and stories and cries of "Again! Again!" when Papa Pea sends him sailing through the air from the end of a spoon.

And just like most little peas you know, there's one thing he doesn't like. It comes at dinner time. There it is on the plate. What is it that your little peas absolutely, positively don't want to eat? Every night threats of "You're not leaving the table until..." and "If you don't eat what you have I'll give you more..." fly across the table. What could this nastiness be?

Candy.

Every day of the week, Monday through Friday, weekends too, it's candy for dinner. Grow up big and strong? Dessert? Not without your candy. What?!? FIVE pieces?!? Just like little peas across the country, this Little Pea chokes them down, squinty-eyed and not without a running commentary on how icky it truly it is. Blech! Candy.

Readers will giggle all they way through once they recognize this nightly struggle through different eyes. And it will certainly make all the little peas out there eager to eat their vegetables every night without complaint.

Ah, who am I kidding? That'll never happen. However, Amy Krouse Rosenthal's book may help all little peas, just like Little Pea in the book, finish that detestable food so they can finally enjoy the best part of the meal. Spina...um...I mean, DESSERT!