``I've got two/fat little piggies''--thumb-sized porkers perched, on opposing pages, on the thumbs of a pair of chubby hands, ``two smart/little piggies''--the index fingers are now extended and two more tiny pigs are added, one orating and one with his nose in a book. The long little piggies on the middle fingers are a basketball player and a ballerina; the ring fingers get ``silly'' piggies, the little ones, ``wee'' babies--and, meanwhile, the other pigs continue to cavort. Once the whole crew is established, new circumstances are explored: it's hot or cold, clean or delightfully dirty. Each pig has a character and exploits to follow; the two hands, in the meantime, do childlike things but never meet until the last bedtime page--where fingers and pigs kiss goodnight. Not since King Bidgood's in the Bathtub (1986, Caldecott Honor) has this talented duo produced such a delightfully ebullient extravaganza. These exuberant, plumb little pigs are real charmers. (Picture book. 3-7)
