In about three dozen words, Kolar chronicles the noisy progress of a small green dinosaur who is stomping his (or her) way through the neighborhood. He merrily stomps out of his home (leaving a disgruntled parent behind), clomps over the hills, trounces, pounces, and whoop-de-dos, shaking the ground, rattling his cohorts, booting all those in his path. ""Thump./Whump!/Look at me!/Stomp, stomp!/Ya-hoo!/Hop./Plop!"" He is a runaway freight train, a loose cannon in a vaguely prehistoric world (a lion and horse make an appearance), until that parent re-materializes to deliver an even greater stomp and bring mayhem to a close. The appeal of this book is directly proportional to the vigor with which it is read aloud. It's not very substantial, otherwise, although the color scheme--lime, aqua, and purple--of the wet-on-wet watercolors seems as willfully crazy as the small hero.