Kaiju has sniffles. / Who will help the poor monster? / Maybe human friends!
Even huge blue monsters aren’t immune to colds, it seems. Waking up “feeling yucky and too hot” one morning and emitting a thunderous sneeze, Kaiju stomps off toward the nearest city in search of comfort, stepping carefully around the little cars and buildings while trying to ignore all the hovering helicopters. Fortunately, a Kaiju-speaking lad and his likewise olive-skinned scientist dad, who works at Kaiju Central, quickly diagnose the problem and order an army of robots to produce an outsize tissue, blanket, and bowl of soup—just the tickets to relieve the grateful giant’s symptoms and send him back to his volcanic cave to snuggle down. McClements frames the entire narrative, including sneezes and wailing sirens, in conventional 5-7-5 haiku, which, rather than sounding forced or monotonous, actually offers lively, comical accompaniment to the cartoon illustrations by lending a rhythmic lilt to the telling. “Kaiju is back home. / Many adventures today— / now it’s time to rest.” Fleeing humans, when large enough to tell, look racially diverse.
Younger snifflers will / sympathize, and delight in / this read-aloud cinch!
(Picture book. 5-9)