I DO NOT EAT CHILDREN

A towering red creature is outsmarted by a child.

“I would never eat a child,” says a tall critter, who holds a hand over its heart and makes a scout’s honor gesture. A line of 10 racially diverse children (one of whom uses a wheelchair) flank the not-monster at the outset, resembling an ensemble waiting to take a bow at a curtain call. Kids disappear with each turn of the page, leaving behind accessories such as a soccer ball or a trumpet to mark their place in the lineup. Though we see the nameless “monster” reaching for unsuspecting tots and burping up a green cloud containing possessions belonging to the kids, it skirts around the label and the idea that it would ever eat children. “Maybe it is you who eats children,” the red-skinned beastie supposes, pointing toward the reader. Readers will enjoy flipping back and forth to see which children have vanished as the not-monster denies all involvement in the rapid and reliable disappearances. The text is spare and direct, with the only dialogue coming from the not-monster until the very last spread. What happens to this antihero? The last standing child, with puffy pigtails and dark skin, declares, “I do eat liars.” And the creature cleanly disappears in a scene sure to elicit chuckles.

Kids will gobble this tale up.