The narrator--a dark-skinned preschooler--describes the many ways her friend surpasses her: she runs faster, climbs farther, eats spaghetti neatly, can do her own buttons, and even knows how to read. ``I'm glad she's my best friend,'' the child reiterates; still, when the friend sleeps over, at bedtime her host is the one who knows that there's no monster blowing the curtains--only the wind. The implicit triumph of this satisfying turnaround is beautifully understated; it's evident mostly in Hutchins's expressive, beautifully designed gouache paintings, where the cheerful host tries to keep up despite an untied lace, makes a comically realistic mess of her supper, and happily strews paint while the visitor produces a tidy (but far less lively) picture. A deceptively simple story with real insight, refreshing as a bright spring day. (Picture book. 3-7)
