TIRED TOWN

When the whole bedroom, city, and even planet are bedding down for the night, how long can a wide-eyed child last?

The spaghetti may be sighing limply, the popcorn feeling “too pooped to pop,” a group of clustered high-rises themselves yawning, and even the sun sinking down with a weary wave to the moon—but Nellie Bee Nightly is wide, wide awake beneath her huge mop of electric red hair. Even her sleepy parents’ five-minute warning only forces her to lower the general volume…and maybe lie down on the bed for a moment: “I’m not sleeping,” she tells her goldfish, Cheesy. “I’m pretending to be a log.” Sure she is. And so, by the time the light has turned itself off and all the books are closed (including an oddly familiar copy of Goodnight, Cheddar), she is “dreaming of a girl who is dreaming of a girl who is dreaming of a girl who is not tired at all.” Nighty night. As in all the best bedtime reads, rhythmic language joins somniferous images in both the art and the narrative to weave an effective spell that will send listeners in Nellie Bee’s wake straight to dreamland. Nellie and her parents are light-skinned. (This book was reviewed digitally.)

No chance of insomnia when even the bedroom floor is snoring.