RAISIN AND GRAPE

Nearly bursting with youthful vim—and adoration—a grape introduces his grandpa, who has a “kazillion” wrinkles and a story for each one. It’s plainly a mutual admiration society, as the two take a walk to the park, crossing the “big street” hand in hand, talking and joking together (“He reminds me to stop and smell the flowers. I would forget that without him. I stop to smell my armpits. ‘Fresh and clean,’ I say. ‘Very funny,’ Grandpa says”), congratulating each other on how good a team they make: “We’re from the same vine, after all!” Snair captures the energy of the small green narrator and his rumpled, purple, more sedate companion in thick, rough strokes, giving the pair inconspicuous limbs but big, expressive facial features. An engaging intergenerational portrait. (Picture book. 6-8)