Caps for Sale

Caps for Sale is an awesome book. If you don't own it already, you need to go buy a copy right now. I'll wait here until you get back. Okay, okay, you can read the review first if you really have to. But trust me, this is a great one. I loved it as a child, Charlie loves it now, and I still love it as an adult.

The story of this book is very simple. A peddler sells caps, walking around town with all the caps stacked on top of his head in a huge tower. One day, nobody wants to buy any caps, so he goes for a walk in the countryside and falls asleep under a tree. When he wakes up, he finds that all the caps are missing, except for his own cap. Looking around, he finds that a group of monkeys have taken his caps and escaped up a tree. How will he get them back?

This book has some serious staying power. Charlie is as obsessed with the book at almost-three years old as he was at 18 months. The story is cleverly told, but with lots of repetitive phrases to draw in young children. For example, whenever the book mentions his caps, it talks about "[the peddler's] own checked cap, then a bunch of gray caps, then a bunch of brown caps, then a bunch of blue caps, and on the very top, a bunch of red caps." There are plenty of opportunities to count the caps and point out their colors.

The best part of the book is the story of how the peddler tries to get his caps back from the monkeys. The illustrations are great -- the peddler in his suit and cap standing at the base of the tree, looking up, and the monkeys hanging from the branches, each wearing one of his caps. The peddler is a little bit angry, but he's pretty sure he can work things out with a simple appeal.

"You monkeys, you," he said, shaking a finger at them, "you give me back my caps."
But the monkeys only shook their fingers back at him and said, "Tsz, tsz, tsz."

This made the peddler angry, so he shook both hands at them and said, "You monkeys, you! You give me back my caps."
But the monkeys only shook both their hands back at him and said, "Tsz, tsz, tsz."

A few pages later, the peddler is so angry that he's essentially having a temper tantrum, stomping his feet and waving his fists and shouting at the monkeys up in the tree. And the monkeys are still playing their game, imitating everything he does. And then the peddler gives up.

At last he became so angry that he pulled off his own cap, threw it on the ground, and began to walk away.

The monkeys have been copying everything he does up to now, and surprise, surprise, they copy this action, too. They throw the caps to the ground and leave the peddler alone.

So the peddler picked up his caps and put them back on his head--first his own checked cap, then the gray caps, then the brown caps, then the blue caps, then the red caps on the very top.

And slowly, slowly, he walked back to town calling, "Caps! Caps for sale! Fifty cents a cap!"

I absolutely love the way they show the peddler's temper tantrum progressing bit by bit as he gets angrier. And particularly, how all of his yelling and screaming and shouting doesn't work at all. It's a great lesson for kids (and grownups!) about how not to convince someone to do what you want.

The other thing I really love about this story is the way the mood progresses in a cycle. It's very calm at the beginning, and then it builds up the huge emotional temper tantrum in the middle, and then once the peddler gets his caps back, it returns to the same calm and peaceful tone of the beginning. I've been looking for books to help Charlie deal with his emotions, and I think Caps for Sale gives an excellent model of how to calm back down and accept the good after an emotional outburst.

A note on versions and ages: I bought the board book version of Caps for Sale when Charlie was about 18 months old. He loved it and wanted to read it every day. Unfortunately, we lost the book while we were on vacation a few months later. Eventually I got around to buying a new one, and since Charlie was two and a half by that time, I went for the paperback instead of the board book. It turns out that the board book leaves out some interesting details of the story, but nothing crucial. I would recommend going straight for the paperback. You can buy the paperback alone, or for just an extra two dollars, you can get it packaged together with a CD that narrates the story and adds some songs. In my opinion, the songs are just so-so, but Charlie loves listening to it in the car. This is the first book-CD package I've tried, but I will certainly be doing some more in the future.

Caps for Sale gets my absolute highest recommendation. It's a wonderful story, well-written, with great lessons, and has excellent power to hold a child's interest.

Green Eggs and Ham

Dr. Seuss books are most commonly marketed to beginning readers in kindergarten and first grade. But some of them are excellent for barely-verbal young toddlers as well. Charlie fell in love with Green Eggs and Ham when he was about 15 months old, and it was a constant favorite in our house until he turned two.

Most people know this story already, but here's a brief recap for anyone who, like me, did not actually read this book as a child (I think my mother disliked it because ham is unkosher). Sam asks his nameless Friend if he'd like some green eggs and ham. Friend says that he does not like green eggs and ham. Sam then asks Friend if he would eat green eggs and ham in various exciting situations (in a house? with a mouse? in the rain? on a train?), but Friend repeatedly insists that he will not eat them anywhere. Finally, after much harassment, Friend agrees to take a bite if Sam will finally leave him alone. Lo and behold, Friend turns out to really like green eggs and ham.

The story is written as a cumulative poem, introducing concepts of repetition and rhyme. The incidental words change (for example, "I do not like them in a box" changes a few pages later to "I would not, could not in a box") but the major subjects appear every time in the same order as new situations are added. The easy rhymes allow a child to think of the correct word to fill in the blank at a very young age.

The simple story is also easy to follow from a very young age. This was the first book that Charlie ever tried to read to me. He must have been about 18 months old, and his rendition went something like this: "Green eggs and ham? No! In car? No! In boat? No! On train? No! All gone!" It was completely adorable.

A friend reminded me yesterday that many Dr. Seuss books have made-up nonsense words throughout. This can be problematic for babies and toddlers who are still trying to acquire a basic vocabulary. Montessori advocates talking to even very young children in ordinary English, without baby talk or nonsense words. Fortunately, Green Eggs and Ham doesn't have any nonsense words. It's composed entirely of short, simple, real words.

This is a classic that served us well for many months. It's back on the storage shelf now, but I plan to bring it out again during the early reading stage if not sooner.

For a hilarious coda, here is Jesse Jackson performing a dramatic reading of this book on Saturday Night Live.

Puff, the Magic Dragon

The beauty of this picture book version of Puff, the Magic Dragon perfectly matches the beauty of the original song by Peter, Paul, and Mary. I fell in love with it the moment I saw it. The book comes packaged together with a CD of the song performed by Peter and his daughter Bethany, but I can't tell you anything about the recording because I bought this book used and the CD was not included.

The song has always made me cry a little bit, and this book did the same. As I've mentioned before, I'm a sucker for growing-up or cycle-of-life stories, and this certainly is one. Jackie has so much fun with Puff, and then grows up and stops playing with him. This book adds a happy ending to the story, though. The words are the same as in the song, but on the final chorus, the illustrations show a new little girl coming to play with Puff. The last page reveals a grown-up Jackie Paper peeking in on the scene, implying that the girl is his daughter.

The illustrations in this book are unbelievably beautiful. The front cover image really does not do justice to the illustrations, and Amazon doesn't have a look-inside feature for this book, so you'll have to take my word for it. They are stunning. The inside covers show maps of the land of Honalee. The pages are gorgeous fantasy paintings that combine realistic and fantastical elements to create the effect that you're truly seeing inside Jackie's imagination. There are many details and hidden elements throughout: fairies, buildings in the distance, rocks that look like faces. I haven't read the book enough times to notice even half of them, I'm sure.

This is quite a sad story, with a deep friendship breaking up as Jackie grows older, and I was a little bit concerned about presenting it to Charlie. And indeed, Charlie was upset when we first read it. He kept asking me why Jackie and Puff are not friends any more. We talked about it at length, discussing how Jackie grew up and dragons are friends with little kids, not grown-ups. I pointed out the little girl who comes to be Puff's new friend, and explained that Jackie is her dad. I don't think Charlie understands exactly what's going on, but he's not traumatized by it. He likes to point out the little girl's dad hiding behind the tree, but I don't think he makes the connection yet that the dad is Jackie as a grown-up. Still, Charlie requests the book frequently and loves the pictures and the song, and he will certainly grow into it.

I adore this book. It's very emotional for me, so it's difficult to explain exactly what I love about it so much. The story is sad yet sweet, the pictures are beautiful, and the song is a folk classic, but together these elements add up to something even more.

Good Dog, Carl

Good Dog, Carl is yet another one of our nearly-wordless friends. It's about a mother who goes out to run some errands, leaving her baby in the care of a large black pet dog, Carl, while she's gone. Carl and the baby get in all kinds of exciting but messy adventures around the house, but Carl cleans everything up and puts the baby back to bed before the mother gets home, so she is none the wiser.

The illustrations in this book are very realistic drawings, but often two scenes, or a before-and-after, are shown on the same page without any lines in between. I've noticed that this is rather confusing to Charlie, thinking that there are two dogs or two babies instead of understanding the time-lapse. That's exactly why Montessori advocates a single picture on each page at this age. Still, this is an interpretive skill that kids need to learn, and a wordless book invites lots of discussion, so I haven't found it to be too much of a problem.

Charlie enjoys narrating this book to me, much more so than his other wordless books. I'm not sure whether that's something inherent in the story, perhaps it's more familiar or easier to follow, or whether it's just that I introduced this book at a slightly older age than our other wordless books, so he has more ability and less history of being read to from this book. This is generally a fun book, but not one of our all-time favorites.

Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel

Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel is one of those books that's so famous it's even written about in other famous books. (Anyone remember Ramona Quimby asking her teacher, in Ramona the Pest, how Mike Mulligan took bathroom breaks?) Since everyone surely already knows this book, why am I writing about it? Because it has really excellent economic and ethical lessons that deserve attention.

Here's the basic recap: Mike Mulligan is a steam shovel operator who owns his own steam shovel, named Mary Anne. They have worked together for many years on big, important projects. But times have changed, and now all of the major projects in the cities are being done by gasoline, electric, and Diesel shovels, not the outdated steam shovels. Most steam shovels are being sold for scrap, but Mike can't face doing that to his beloved Mary Anne. Then one day Mike hears that the small town of Popperville is going to build a new city hall, so he and Mary Anne drive out there and offer to dig the cellar, promising that the work will be free if they can't complete it in a single day. One by one, the residents of Popperville turn out to watch, followed by the residents of other towns. All of the spectators motivate Mike and Mary Anne to work very fast, and they complete their job in just one day. But they've forgotten to leave a ramp to drive Mary Anne out of the cellar! After some discussion, everyone agrees to let Mary Anne stay in the cellar, where she will become the furnace for the new town hall, and Mike is hired as the janitor.

This book can be read as having an anti-development bias. It displays a certain amount of sadness for the technological changes that have made steam shovels obsolete. But there is plenty to counter this, unlike in, for instance, The Little House, another Virginia Lee Burton book with a very strong nostalgia for old-fashioned country living. The first few pages of Mike Mulligan are aglow with praise for technological and economic developments. Mike and Mary Anne are proud of their work digging canals, cutting paths for new roads and railroads, smoothing out landing fields for airplanes, and digging cellars for skyscrapers in the cities. The only technological development they seem to dislike is the one that puts them out of work--the invention of better digging technology.

Perhaps Mike's affection for Mary Anne led him to make some poor economic choices. He could have invested in a diesel shovel instead of taking "such good care of Mary Anne she never grew old." But it can also make good economic sense to keep your capital equipment in good working order as long as possible. This being a children's story book instead of a corporate balance sheet, we don't have the necessary information to decide whether Mike made the right choices or not. But this makes a great discussion topic as your kids get older. And little kids can relate in the right context, too: should we repair this toy or buy a new, upgraded model?

Mike and Mary Anne embody the value of productive work. They are extremely proud of all the work they have done on important development projects. When they are replaced by newer equipment and can no longer find work, "Mike Mulligan and Mary Anne were VERY SAD." (In all caps, no less!) There's nothing worse than being unemployed and useless. Their solution is not to give up, but to prove how useful they can be in the right context. They head out to the small town of Popperville, where it doesn't make economic sense to hire a big diesel shovel, but a steam shovel can still be very useful. They like other people to appreciate their work, too. When they know they are being useful and entertaining to spectators, they work even harder and faster.

The solution reached at the end of the book is pretty much perfect. Even if Mike hadn't forgotten to leave a ramp out of the cellar, turning Mary Anne into a furnace might well be the best economic solution out there. There can't be too many places like Popperville left for very long--economic development will continue to spread from big projects to small ones--and traveling between far-flung little towns with a day's work in each is not likely to be economically viable for Mike and Mary Anne. If Mary Anne can function efficiently as a heating unit, why not? It provides steady, useful work. Mike and Mary Anne are both thrilled with the situation; nobody treats it as a demotion (though perhaps it's a form of semi-retirement, sitting around with visitors telling stories and eating pie every day). Certainly it is much more productive than what other steam shovel operators did, scrapping their machines or leaving them to rust. Mary Anne goes on to have another whole phase of productive life because she was so well kept up by her operator. Mike gets to continue working with Mary Anne, clearly important to him, instead of having to give her up for a different machine. The solution is not only efficient, it also makes everyone happy.

Overall, I think the theme of this book is not nostalgia and anti-development. It's finding a productive niche for yourself given your capacities and limits. Not all of us can be CEOs of Fortune 500 corporations. Maybe we don't have the skills or capacity, or maybe we have other values, like family or leisure, that make other paths better for us. This book is about finding the work you can do, taking pride in it, and finding a situation that gives you the best life possible.

Sunrise, Sunset

We received Sunrise, Sunset from PJ Library, an organization that provides free books to Jewish kids. I would wholeheartedly recommend PJ Library to anyone raising their kids in the Jewish religion. I recommend it with reservations to people like me, who want their kids to have a cultural connection to Judaism without pushing the religion aspect. PJ sends out one book or CD per month. We signed up for the baby level (under two years old), and over the course of the year, there were two books that I refused to give to Charlie because of religious or mystical content. The rest were straightforward explanations of Jewish holidays that we read but didn't love.

Sunrise, Sunset was one of the first books we got from PJ after graduating to the 2-3 year age group, and it's certainly my favorite book from them so far. It's the story of Motel and Tzeitel from Fiddler on the Roof, told in pictures accompanied by the words of the song Sunrise, Sunset. I am a sucker for happy cycle-of-life stories, and this one totally made me cry.

The religious content of this book is subtle and almost non-existent. There's nothing about religious beliefs or anything in the text. All of the characters are shown wearing religious dress, namely head coverings and tzit tzit. The Jewish wedding ceremony is shown and briefly described. One page appears to depict the discarding of bread before Passover, but it's not explained. All of these are elements that I want my kids to know about, and I like that they are presented mainly in the background to discuss but not as part of the actual story.

The illustrations are colorful and very expressive, and the characters are drawn to look very similar to the actors in the movie version of Fiddler on the Roof. Motel and Tzeitel are shown as children and then as young adults falling in love, then after their marriage Tzeitel is shown pregnant and then the couple with their new baby. Other elements in the illustrations also show the passage of time (A white kitten becomes old and fat. Tzeitel's parents appear to get older as well.). There is also a theme of sunflowers on almost every page, taken from the lyric, "Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers, blossoming even as we gaze."

The words of the song are just as they appear in the movie or play, so they will be quite familiar. It's a sweet reflection on the passage of time and how quickly children grow up. The final page of the book prints the sheet music to the song, so you can play or sing along.

I probably would not have paid money for this book, since it's essentially the same content one could get from the movie. But I'm glad we have it. It would have been nice to take out of the library, I think. It makes the story accessible to a much younger child than the movie would be appropriate for. Charlie has certainly enjoyed reading it.

The Train to Glasgow

The Train to Glasgow is a new (2004) picture book of an old (1954) poem that is a recent favorite of Charlie's. It is a cumulative poem in the style of The House that Jack Built, or There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly, or, for that matter, Green Eggs and Ham, which is another of our favorites. The poem has a bit of substantial variation; that is, the lines change a bit as new things are added, and the last verse is completely different.

The story is about a boy named Donald, maybe around ten years old, who almost misses the train from Donibristle to Glasgow. The guard grabs his hands and yanks him into the train as it is leaving the station. But then a cage full of chickens falls over and the chickens escape and begin running around the train. Donald gathers them back up for the guard, who is so pleased that he invites Donald to have tea with him and his wife.

The illustrations provide the opportunity to anticipate what is going to happen next, at least once you've read the book through a few times. As the guard blows the whistle to start the train, for instance, you can see Donald in the background, running across a bridge, trying to catch the train. As the guard yanks Donald into the train, a corner of the cage of chickens is visible just beside him. When the chickens get out of their cage, you see them running toward the passengers they'll be stepping on top of on the next page.

The main attraction of this book, though, is the poem, which is very cute and not boring. Charlie has started to recite it along with me as I read the book, something he rarely does with other books. Oh, and the train. Everyone loves a good train.

This is also a great free range book. This boy is traveling alone on a train between two cities which, Google Maps tells me, are about 50 miles apart. He doesn't even have an adult bring him to the station! Once on the train, he saves the day by rounding up the chickens. And then at the end, he is allowed to go to tea, again without any parents, with this man and woman he's apparently never met before. This kid is capable, independent, trusting, and friendly--all excellent qualities.

Just a Little Critter Collection

There are approximately nine million books in the "Little Critter" series, and I readily admit, I have not read them all. The ones I have read range from fantastic to very boring. That's why I was pleased to discover Just a Little Critter Collection, a hardcover collection of seven really excellent Little Critter stories. There is no hit-or-miss here. Every single one in the book is great.

Most of this review discusses the stories, but before I launch into that, I want to mention the totally cute illustrations for a moment.  These are not great works of art or anything, but they are adorable and interesting. There are many background details to discover, particularly a spider, cricket, and mouse that follow Little Critter around to many places. The facial expressions on the parents and kids are also priceless.

Each of these stories is also available as an individual paperback. The included stories are:

• Just for You
• When I Get Bigger
• I Was So Mad
• All by Myself
• Just Go to Bed
• Just a Mess
• I Just Forgot

One of the major overriding themes of these stories is a free-range childhood. The main character, who I guess is the Little Critter himself, is probably around four or five years old (old enough to have a little sister who is a kid, not a baby), but his parents give him a huge amount of freedom and responsibility. In Just for You alone, his mother lets him cook eggs, mop the floor, put away the dishes, carry the groceries home from the store, mow the lawn (with an old-style mechanical mower), and set the table for dinner. In every picture, the mother is in the background, looking on, encouraging Little Critter to do things on his own. When he messes things up, which he does repeatedly, she is clearly aggravated but always kind and helpful. This is also the main story of the rather obviously-titled All By Myself.

Despite his age-appropriate freedom, Little Critter has clear rules and limits imposed by his parents. When I Get Bigger is about his fantasies of the exciting things he'll do when those limits are removed. All of them are very reasonable things that bigger kids can do ("I'll go to the corner store by myself."), or at least could back in the 1970s ("I'll have a two-wheeler and a paper route. I'll make lots of money.").

Combining both free range philosophy and good parental limits, I Was So Mad describes what happens one day when Little Critter was prevented from doing a series of activities he wanted to do (putting frogs in the bathtub, climbing inside his sister's dollhouse, painting the exterior walls of the house, and juggling eggs, among other things), and decided that he was so mad he would run away. His parents look on in quiet amusement as he packs his wagon full of toys and cookies and heads out the door. But right outside, he runs into his friends and decides to go play baseball with them instead of running away.

The two ideas also intermingle in the last story in the book, which is my favorite, I Just Forgot. Parents sometimes have trouble understanding exactly how many things a kid has to learn and remember. Things that are second-nature to us--like turning off the bath water when we are done!--are just one more habit that a kid is in the process of forming. Little Critter is doing his best to remember all the things he needs to do, but he only gets about half of them right. The writing in this story is just adorable and captures a little kid's voice perfectly. Some of the things are presented straightforwardly ("I put my dishes in the sink after breakfast, but  I forgot to put the milk away."), and others are almost laugh-out-loud funny ("I didn't forget to feed the goldfish. He just didn't look hungry. I'll do it now, Mom.").

I can totally relate to Little Critter's parents. They rarely say anything in these stories, but their facial expressions and body language always mirror exactly what I'd be feeling if my kid did whatever it is that Little Critter is doing just then. They are by turns proud, amused, frustrated, angry, worried, annoyed, and loving. But they generally stay in the background, letting Little Critter work out his problems for himself. This is most evident in Just a Mess, when Little Critter can't find his baseball mitt and his mother suggests that maybe he'll find it if he cleans his unbelievably cluttered room. She refuses to help, commenting, "You made the mess, so you can clean up the mess." You go, Mom Critter! In the whole story, she only intervenes to prevent Little Critter from washing his bedroom floor with the garden hose.

And parents are not perfect. I completely identify with Dad Critter as he gets increasingly annoyed with Little Critter's refusal to cooperate with the bedtime routine and ends up shouting "Just go to bed!"

Yet the love always shines through in these books. No matter how frustrated and annoyed the parents and child get with each other, there is always a tender moment. You just know that this is a strong, close-knit family. To a parent, one message of this book is that kids can be aggravating as heck, but they are still awesome. To a kid, the message is that parents can be aggravating as heck, but they are still awesome. Capturing both of those messages at once is, in my opinion, brilliant.

The Little Engine That Could

Charlie received The Little Engine That Could as a present from a relative about a month ago, and he fell in love with it immediately. He's definitely a train kid. But even for the non-train-obsessed out there, I'm sure you're familiar with this classic book. It was first written in 1930, and the story and pictures are almost sickeningly sweet at first glance. It strikes me, though, that the ethics behind this book are more complicated than I first thought. There are lots of good points and bad points here.

Let me recap the story first, in case it's not fresh in your mind. A train filled with dolls, toys, and fresh food is making its way over the mountain to the children who live in the town on the other side, when suddenly their engine breaks down. The dolls flag down passing engines and ask each one to help. The first three refuse, but the fourth engine, which is very small, agrees to help. This little blue engine has never been over the mountain before and is not sure she can make it, but with will power and determination, pulls the train over the mountain to a happy ending.

I'd like to briefly mention and then put aside the economic issues, because they are disappointing but not all that important. Stuck in a bad situation, the dolls do not try to hire a new engine or trade value-for-value, but instead start begging passers-by for help. Even if they don't have any cash, they surely have things they can trade: toys, food, empty space in the train cars after the goods are delivered on the other side of the mountain, fuel from their broken engine. It's also unclear how the toys and food are going to get into the hands of the "good little boys and girls" on the other side of the mountain. Will they be sold in a shop, or given out for free? Or are these items already owned by the boys and girls, and don't want their late-night partying on the other side of the mountain to be discovered? These questions are not addressed; it's just imperative that they get there by morning.

Why do I say that these economic issues are not very important? Because they're not a major focus of the book. You'd have to come up with the idea yourself to ask about it, and Charlie is way too young to do that. The book doesn't claim that begging is the best thing to do in the situation, and there's no discussion about alternatives; it's just what the dolls do. The focus is on other moral issues, which I discuss below: solving problems, helping others when you can, and the importance of a positive attitude and determination. Just because the setup for these issues is questionable doesn't mean that the book as a whole is a waste of time.

I'd be remiss if I didn't also mention the slightly sexist aspect to the book, which is not surprising since it was written 80 years ago.  The main character taking responsibility for getting the train across the mountain is a toy clown, who is male. The two female dolls fret in the background and then start to cry. Though to be fair, a toy elephant cries, too.

Now on to the good stuff.

Solving your own problems: I see this as a very free-range-friendly book. The child-readers identify with the dolls and the little clown who were on the train and are now trying to convince another engine to pull them over the mountain. There are many parental figures who might have shown up -- the engineer, the manufacturer of the toys, the shopkeepers waiting to receive the merchandise, the parents of the children across the mountain -- but none of them are ever mentioned. The dolls are in a bind, and they use their own intelligence and resources to find help. (Another free-range note is the inclusion of a jackknife as one of the toys on the train.)

Helping others -- or not: The second or third time we read this book, right when Charlie was beginning to engage with the story, he scolded the first engine that refused to help. "No, choo-choo train! That is not okay!" He was very adamant, shaking his finger at the book and frowning. This provided possibly the first occasion for me to verbally explain rationally selfish ethics to him. It is okay for the engine to refuse help, but it's not very nice. We probably don't want to be friends with him. The author and most readers would probably characterize the non-helpers as morally bad, but there is nothing in the text or pictures that demands this interpretation. There's also a great opportunity to differentiate between the first two engines, who are just snooty and mean, and the third engine, who is old and tired and might suffer actual pain if he helped.

The fourth engine agrees to help because she is friendly and nice. She doesn't have to, nobody forces her to, but she decides of her own free will that she will take on what is for her a very difficult task in order to help others. She has nothing to lose, and she has a sense of benevolence and of adventure that are inspiring.

Positive attitude: This last message is what the book is known for. The little blue engine has never even been over the mountain, let alone pulling a train behind her. She's very small and is not sure she can make it. But she gives it her best try anyway, and the positive attitude ("I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.") helps her succeed in the end. Woohoo!

Overall, this is a recommend. It's not perfect, but it has a number of very good elements and teaching opportunities. The text and pictures are a bit boring to an adult, but the book is a childhood classic and Charlie absolutely loves it.