Good Night Moon, the timeless tale of naming things in a great green room and then saying "good night" to them. Good Night Brush, Good Night Clock, Good Night Mush, Good Night Sock. This is one book that you get really pissed off about because you start thinking, I could write this drivel and I too would be filthy rich.
The drawings by Clement Hurd are glorious and comforting showing a wonder filled room enchanting to children and filled with a bunch of random items. The room is not well child proofed. There is a burning file, lots of sharp edges, and contains a clothes line. I don't think the AAP would approve. It would make me very happy is someone took the bowl of mush to the sink rather than let it sit all night.
A little nugget of trivia is that Margaret Wise Brown died when she was 42, leaving all of her royalties to a 9 year old rascally kid. The child grew up to a slacking drug abuser who still receives profits to sustain his life of traveling to exotic places, drinking/drugs, and neglecting his children who were conceived by miscellaneous women.
Surprisingly, kids are not freaked out about the old lady in the rocking chair whispering "Hush" but she does give me the heebee geebees.
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