Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse

Lilly the mouse gets a purple plastic purse, and she wants to display it at Show-and-Tell. She knows her teacher won't mind.

That teacher--Mr. Slinger--is a model of pedagogical excellence. He says, "Howdy!" ....He never says, "Morning, Pupils." He provides tasty cheesy snacks. He has an "Inspiration Lab" in the back corner. He rejects rows in favor of world-rocking "semicircles." He drily refers to his students as "rodents" -- and, indeed, they are, because everyone in this book is a mouse.

Lilly gets impatient because of her purse. She needs everyone to see and admire it RIGHT NOW. This impatience leads to speaking out of turn. And the purse is confiscated.

Lilly retaliates by drawing a brutal caricature of Mr. Slinger--"Fat, Mean Mr. Slinger"--and leaving it for her nemesis to see. Meanwhile, her Christ-like foil (Mr. Slinger) writes Lilly a loving and tender note and slips her extra cheese snacks in a baggy, as a sign of magnanimity.

You can imagine the neurotic self-torture that results once Lilly realizes how hasty and immature she has been.

Is this Jane Austen? It might as well be. It's really Kevin Henkes, and it's a picture book, among the greatest of all time. I especially like when Lilly's mother writes an apologetic note to Mr. Slinger--surely offering a psychological history of her crazy child--and Lilly is left to wonder, and wonder, what might be in the note.

Kevin Henkes *nails* literally each and every moment in this book, including the last page. Reconciled with Mr. Slinger, Lilly cheerfully announces she would like to be a teacher when she grows up. "If not....a ballerina....or an astronaut....or President...or an actress....or a writer....or a soccer star....or a spy....or a builder...." We know all we need to know about Lilly in this scene. And Henkes is accurately recalling childhood: how a world-shattering crisis becomes a foggy, foggy, painless memory, within seconds.

Five of five stars.

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