MY MOMMIES BUILT A TREEHOUSE

A boy and his moms build a treehouse.

The unnamed young protagonist wants a treehouse so he can pretend it’s “a secret space base on the moon. / A castle just for me!” His agreeable moms plan it out, help the boy find the right tree on what must be a remarkably large piece of property, shop for materials, and build it. There’s no tension propelling this slice-of-life story forward. All the gentle moments of conflict—the child breaking a piece of wood at the store, the weather being uncooperative, the protagonist’s friends having to go home after a long play date—are easily resolved, and there’s no identifiable question or climax at the heart. This plodding tale is written in occasionally wrenched ABCB rhyme. The uneven rhythm and rhyming words give the narrative a repetitive, constrained quality. The brown-skinned child matches one of his moms in skin tone, while the other mom is light-skinned. Those in search of a straightforwardly wholesome example of a kid having an ordinary adventure with his two moms will find it here; those seeking a compelling read-aloud will have to look elsewhere. (This book was reviewed digitally.)

Sweet but lacking.