The author of the provocative Dora’s Box (1998) writes a rollicking and rhythmic maternal tale. The day that Queenie’s 15 daughters are born, her prize herd of cows runs off, her husband goes off to find them, and neither comes back. But Queenie copes. When the girls are six, they want individual birthday cakes. When they are 12, they want their own beds, and at 16, their own party dresses, rebelling against the bovine black-and-white they wore. In each case, Queenie rises to the occasion. The girls ask for so little, and she wants to give them so much: “She drafted designs on Monday, sawed wood on Tuesday, wove bedspreads on Wednesday, stuffed pillows on Thursday, hammered nails on Friday, and painted all day—and all night—on Saturday.” The results were “five cowboy beds, four princess beds, three water beds, two race-car beds, and one hammock.” And so it goes. Queenie even manages to locate and interview 15 fiancés for her girls. When the girls produce offspring—quintuplets, quadruplets, and so on—she sells her house, moves to a new one, and entertains all 55 babies every Sunday. But the rest of the week, she does exactly as she pleases. Rosy watercolors with Queenie’s signature polka dot motif reflect the bouncy mothers-can-do-everything jollity of the text. Go Queenie. (Picture book. 3-7)