Wielding pen, brush, and odd bits of cloth or cardboard with breezy abandon, Cantone depicts a pop-eyed, carrot-topped child in variously skewed domestic settings, tallying her “particular tastes”—“Dogs <\b>are not her favorite thing. ‘I do not like large ones that drool, but small ones that keep their tongues in their mouths are okay.’ ” After going on to weigh in on cats, foods, colors, her big brother, baths, boats, and baby dolls, Alberta concludes with the unsurprising revelation that her very favorite thing is (wait for it): “ME!” Self-absorbed narrators can have some entertainment value, but Alberta’s voice or—despite the wildly modernist art—visual presence isn’t strong enough to stand out among all the Eloises and Olivias—nor are younger readers likely to make much of her abrupt insight that, “What you like and who you are, these are not the same. But they are not so very different either,” without adult interpretation. (Picture book. 7-9)
