My toddler destroys books. Annihilates them. Leaves a trail of shredded, decomposing card stock in her wake, while eagerly pulling more victims off the bookshelf and begging you to read them to her. Books now end on cliffhangers; lift-flaps are permanently removed, and alternate illustrations in crayon or ballpoint pen slash across all the pictures. “Reading time” becomes the duel challenge of piecing the pages back together with tape while still trying to follow the now-decimated story.
This is my toddler’s favorite book; you can tell by the lack of any page with all its original parts. With a few slight changes to the text, I now feel the story better fits the shopworn pop-up illustrations.