THIRSTY BABY

Burnished watercolors transform a so-so story. With a wobbly line of ink, they give an offbeat interpretation to Cullen’s (The Magical, Mystical, Marvelous Coat, 2001) theme that is like a gift. For it’s a fun but unexceptional member of the child-who-ate-too-much school. “ ‘I’m thirsty,’ said the baby, ‘and I need a drink.’ ” Dad delivers a bottle, but the baby says, “I’m thirsty, and I want more!” Well, Mom has run him a bath and that will do just fine. “More!” His sister takes him for a row in the pond. “He started with a sip, and the finished with a sup, / And the pond in the park, well, he drank it all up.” And so goes the river he visits with his grandmother and the sea he visits with his grandfather. “ ‘That’s enough!’ said the baby. ‘Now it’s time to stop. / That’s enough!’ said the baby. Not another drop!’ ” Until bedtime, anyway. The rhyme has a tone poem’s musicality and the kind of pleasing repetition that gets the toe tapping. But it’s McPhail’s (Sisters, 2002, etc.) art that lifts the whole production to another, comfortably seedy level, full of mud and discarded tires and old cannonballs, stranded whales and unhappy turtles and tattered Jolly Rogers. A call to row your boat upon Cullen’s poem and, with a great inclusive hug, into McPhail’s world. (Picture book. 3-6)