David’s good little Miranda is being handed a bill of goods from her working parents: “Tomorrow,” they reply to her requests, and they take her consent for granted. When they fail to deliver Miranda’s favorite Saturday waffle breakfast, and again make the feeble “tomorrow” response, Miranda metamorphoses into a rough-and-tumble alter-ego—Lucretia, who is green and nasty. Miranda is inside Lucretia’s head, staring out her eyeball to witness the proceedings, and can communicate with Lucretia but not with her parents. Lucretia asks Miranda what she wants, and at first all is well, with all Miranda’s requests fulfilled. Then Lucretia turns mean, humiliating the parents and disregarding Miranda’s pleas. After Lucretia makes Miranda’s mother stick pencils up her nose and sing “Polly Wolly Doodle,” Miranda cuts loose and reappears, sending Lucretia back to a primitive corner of her brain. The parents are delighted to have their good girl return, but slip into their “tomorrow” motif until prompting from Lucretia firms up negotiations. Lucretia will appeal to every child who has ever succumbed to vague parental procrastinations, and Oubrerie’s illustrations are just what the story ordered: bug-eyed, elemental, and more than a tad crazy. (Picture book. 6-9)
