Going on a Book Hunt

It’s inevitable. If my cell phone comes anywhere near the vicinity of my ear, one of my four children will either:

1. start crying, usually while clinging to my leg
2. hit one of the others
3. hurt herself
4. desperately need my attention for what later turns out to be an inconsequential matter

So we moms hide away in closets, pantries, garages and closets in our desperate attempts to finish actual conversations with fellow members of the adult human race. Either that or the person on the other end of the line is forced to suffer through my attempts to talk over the background screeching with teeth clenched and increasing frustration and volume.

Amy Reichert capitalizes on this phenomenon in her book “While Mama had a Little Chat.” She turns the tables, though, and imagines a scenario in which the pleas of the pestering child may actually warrant some attention.

As bedtime is nearing, Mama answers the ringing telephone. Before delving into a “quick little chat” with Uncle Fred, she tasks daughter Rose with completing her nighttime routine, promising she won’t be long.

Ever left your children to ready themselves for bed while you finish the dishes or squeeze in one more load of laundry? Yeah, NOT.GONNA.HAPPEN.

Rose would argue, however, that she had the best of intentions. It’s just that the doorbell rang … and in walked “four muscley men” with supplies from the party store: tables, chairs, balloons, twinkly lights and silverware. They’re wrongly under the impression that Rose’s household is hosting a shindig that evening.

Ever so politely, Rose begs her mother’s attention:

Put off, there’s nothing Rose can do to stop the arrival of eager part-goers, caterers and a magician. She’s sawn in half and a jazz band joins the mix, inviting her to fill in on drums. The party is reaching full strength and full capacity, just as Mama calls down the hall informing Rose that her conversation is at its end.

Fearing she’ll be chastised for all the hubbub, Rose hustles the musicians, the magician, the waiters, and those four party-supply delivery men out the door. Miraculously, when Mama hangs up the phone and heads to check on Rose, all is well.

Reichert has written the parallel frustrations of Mama and Rose with perfect humor. Mama promises a “quick little chat,” but all children know “a second or two” can just as well mean something closer to an hour. Meanwhile, one hardly needs the bold typeface to hear the all-too-familiar shriek in Rose’s voice when she screams: “MAAAAAAAAMA, I need you right now!” Really, right now?

As an added bonus, Reichert composed this story using inventive rhyme, creating a rhythm that’s fun for both the reader and the listener.

Reichert’s story is spot on, but it was Alexandra Boiger’s illustrations that first drew me to the book. With one glance at the cover, I recognized her distinctive style from another of our picture book favorites, “The Little Bit Scary People,” in which she partnered up with author Emily Jenkins.

Boiger’s characters are richly detailed and amusingly unique – large-nosed movers with hair-covered forearms, cater waiters with bushy eyebrows and thin comb-overs, women with all manner of hairstyles. And each character is illustrated with playful, energetic and immensely expressive body language. Boiger’s color palette is distinctive, as well – she mixes mainly cool blue and aqua backgrounds with bold, vibrant splashes of warm reds, oranges and yellows.

Take note of Boiger’s name — anything she lends it too is bound to be a sure bet!