K-Gr 3-An omniscient narrator explains why a pig parade is not the great idea that one might think it is. Who knew? These barnyard animals hate to march (preferring, inappropriately, to snuffle); flat out refuse to wear majorette uniforms; don't care about building floats ("the only floats pigs care about are root beer floats"); and prefer sad country music ballads to "good, spirited marching band music." Bold, full-color acrylic illustrations, painterly in their texture, hilariously extend the wacky premise with witty details (bungee cords secure the pigs' ill-fitting majorette uniforms) and varied perspectives (a pig snout snuffles for leftovers in a larger-than-life close-up). The story's conclusion, that "a panda bear parade, on the other hand, would be fantastic," is just as silly and arbitrary. The tongue-in-cheek tone of the text coupled with the large-scale illustrations and generous trim size make this a surefire storyhour read-aloud that will elicit laughter and cheers of delight.-Kathleen Finn, St. Francis Xavier School, Winooski, VT (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Black's pitch-perfect porcine parody sets off at a brisk pace. "Like most children, you have probably thought to yourself at one time or another, I bet a pig parade would be a lot of fun." Hawkes (who illustrated Black's Chicken Cheeks) supplies a picture of pigs dashing forth in spruce uniforms, playing instruments, as fireworks explode behind them. "The only problem is," Black continues, "a pig parade is a terrible idea." A double-page spread shows why; no parade anywhere-just a trio of porkers "snuffling" around, one with chewing gum stuck to its snout. Skewering stuffy types who belabor the obvious, Black points out that real pigs show no willingness to march, won't wear majorette uniforms, and won't hold big balloons ("Because while pig hooves are good for digging up wild mushrooms, when it comes to holding giant parade balloons, they are simply not up to the job"). The Monty Pythonesque premise delivers laugh after laugh, while Hawkes's portraits of pigs chewing on their band hats, tromping on their horns, and floating into outer space with parade balloons will win over readers of all ages. Ages 4-8. (Sept.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

*Starred Review* Perhaps you had not even thought about the idea of a pig parade. But as this book makes clear, before you do, dismiss it from your mind. There are sooo many reasons a pig parade is a bad idea. For one thing, pigs hate to march. And they refuse to wear majorette uniforms. This, by the way, is not because they consider them unflattering ( Everybody looks sharp in a majorette uniform ), but they are a bit difficult to put on. They don't like marching tunes, and their hooves are too small to control the giant balloons. So, a pig parade is a terrible idea . . . but a clever ending offers another option. If this book's arch-toned text wasn't flat-out funny enough, Hawkes' deliciously down-and-dirty art takes the concept to a whole other level. These are not shiny pink porcine paraders we're talking about (as seen in the opening spread of idealized marchers). Hawkes' porkers are huge, hairy, beady-eyed snufflers who, contrary to the unseen narrator's belief, prove that not everyone looks good in a majorette uniform. Filling up the pages, the pigs break instruments, stumble into stampedes, and cry over country music. Horror will mix with hysterical laughter when kids (and adults) get ahold of this one.--Cooper, Ilene Copyright 2010 Booklist

IT is generally agreed that humor is subjective. Looking across the recent crop of picture books that specialize in gently absurd comedy, one can imagine grown-ups wondering if kids will get the joke. But that would underestimate even very young children's ability, to appreciate the incongruous, the nonsensical, the flat-out eccentric. "A Sick Day for Amos McGee," by Philip C. Stead, is a case in point. It delightfully takes its loony scenario for granted. We meet Amos, a stooped-shouldered older gentleman dressed in a moss-green threepiece suit, getting ready for his day as a zookeeper. With a sweet smile, Amos goes about his daily chores. He plays chess with the delicately shaded pink elephant, lets a tortoise win races and sits with one of the penguins, who is very shy. One day when Amos comes down with a cold, the animals travel to his home to care for their caregiver. Observant readers will notice tiny surprises hidden in plain sight: a red balloon, a tiny mouse and a sparrow popping up here and there in the story. Erin E. Stead, the illustrator, overlays her pencil sketches with gentle tones of pink, peach, blue and green, and bright red spots that belie the deceptive ordinariness of the text. With his new book, "How Rocket Learned to Read," Tad Hills ("Duck & Goose") brings a sweet but not saccharine touch to a common struggle of childhood. Rocket is a fuzzy spotted dog who loves to chase leaves, chew sticks, sniff around the neighborhood and nap. One day a small yellow bird disturbs him. "'Aha! My first student! Wonderful!' she sang. Rocket was confused. 'Student? I'm not a -' 'But if I am your teacher,' the bird interrupted, 'then you must be my student.' Rocket found it hard to argue with this bird." She tempts him by reading aloud the story of an unlucky dog named Buster who lost his favorite bone - and thus begins Rocket's growing desire to read for himself. We know that birds aren't teachers and that dogs don't read, but that doesn't stop us from enjoying the process of Rocket's learning how to write his letters, practicing the "wondrous, mighty, gorgeous alphabet" and sounding out the G and many Rs in Mr. Barker the dog's growl: "GRRRRRRRRR!" What child hasn't brought home a wild creature and asked - "Can I keep it?" - only to hear the parent say that this frog, spider or chipmunk would make a terrible pet. In "Children Make Terrible Pets," Peter Brown turns the classic picture book imagery of animals who act like people (or "people in animal suits," as it's said in the field) on its head with Lucy, an over-the-top feminine bear cub who finds a boy and wants to keep him as a pet. "Oh! My! Gosh! You are the cutest critter in the whole forest!" she says when she discovers him. And since his language sounds to her like "squeak," she names him Squeaker. Joyfully animated illustrations depict Lucy in a pink tutu and Squeaker as a typical boy in a striped shirt and sneakers. The way each page is framed in a faux wood finish gives the pictures the look of a vintage television console. Although Lucy finds that her human pet is a lot of fun to play and nap with, he is also a bit of a handful, ruining the furniture and refusing to potty train in a tray of kitty litter. In the end, we can all agree, children do make terrible pets. But the winner of the Most Absurd Picture Book of the Year Award, if there were one, would have to go to "A Pig Parade Is a Terrible Idea," written by Michael Ian Black and drawn by Kevin Hawkes. The joke is in the comically drawn-out contrast between the cute marching pigs of our imagination and the realistically sticky, glistening-nosed, frowning hogs. BLACK'S deadpan narration sets the tone. A pig parade is a terrible idea. The book states dryly that it might seem like a lot of fun - you might imagine sharp majorette uniforms, rousing marching-band music and fantastic floats. You would be wrong. The text notes that pigs don't march - they shuffle. Pigs don't enjoy military music, either; they prefer sad country ballads. And the only floats pigs like are the ones with root beer. Kids never say when telling a favorite joke, "Stop me if you've heard this one before." If they laughed at it once, it is 14 times as funny on the 14th telling. And, yes, the stories here are all ones that can be read again and again. They never get old. Lisa Von Drasek, the children's librarian at Bank Street College of Education, blogs about children's books for EarlyWord.com.

This tongue-in-cheek book explains why an orderly pig parade, featuring a spiffy, disciplined marching band, could never happen. Pigs, for example, "prefer to snuffle" instead of marching upright; they enjoy country, not marching-band music; and they refuse to don majorette uniforms. Hawkes's large acrylic illustrations make the most of the joke, zooming in on scenes of messy, disorderly porcine behavior. (c) Copyright 2011. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

"Like most children you have probably thought to yourself at one time or another, I bet a pig parade would be a lot of fun." After all, "pig parade" is even fun to say...but did you know that pigs hate to march? They would rather snuffle, which doesn't lend itself to parading. Pigs won't wear uniforms. Hard to say why; maybe they think uniforms unflattering, which is just foolish. Pigs care nothing for floats (except those involving root beer), and their trotters can't hold the lines for giant balloons. To top it off, pigs prefer sad, slow country ballads to peppy marching-band music. Maybe a panda parade, then...? Black and Hawkes reteam to good effect for a second sly and silly animal-centered tale (Chicken Cheeks, 2009). Black's deadpan wit might not be to all tastes, but sophisticated young audiences will hoot at the interplay of illustration and text. Hawkes's acrylic paintings, most full-bleed, of realistic porkers munching on majorette uniforms and noodling with instruments are nothing short of spectacular. A preposterous, porcine pleasure. (Picture book. 5-8)]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.