That’s no real slight to my mother-when you understand the sheer volume of children’s books that have collected in our home over the last four years, it’s easy to understand my ambivalence. I hadn’t heard of it and so remained aloof to its appearance in our home. It came by mail, a gift from my mom to my son for his second birthday. When it arrived, I worried about which category Mr. It’s a mystery to me that these eyesores gain popularity when there exist so many sublime works to ignite the imagination and fire the engines of the mind. For every gorgeously illustrated Animalia, Snowy Day, or Garden of Abdul Gasazi, there’re piles and piles of eye pollution like the Olivia books. These things, children’s books, are a mystery to me. Wuffles! is like The Arrival, but for kids.” And now those of you who’ve read The Arrival, just think about what that means for a children’s book. And then, when they look up and breathe out a quiet, holy “Wow,” I will look at them, smile for the second gift I am about to visit upon them in the space of a single evening, and reiterate: “ Mr.

Then I can simply hand it over and say, “No no, I’ll wait,” while they take the fifteen minutes required to read his book. Really, I should just keep a copy ready and at hand for such instances. It’s more just a question of why would they would take in the lesser pleasure (my company) when they could be basking in the wonders Tan makes available to the visual sense in The Arrival. This is not because I refuse to speak to those who haven’t read Shaun Tan’s book. And to those who ask, “But what’s The Arrival?” I will cock my head ever so slightly and with a playful astonishment dancing behind my eyes, I will ask them why they are bothering with talking to me when they still haven’t read one of the most beautiful books ever created. I think this is how I’ll likely describe the book in the future. But here, now, days later, that description feels as though it’s made itself at home. Wuffles to a curious party-just off the top of my head.

“It’s like The Arrival, but for kids.” That was how I tried to describe David Wiesner’s Mr.

Mr wuffles