PLATYPUS AND THE LUCKY DAY

A lucky day proves to be just so, but not before a series of mishaps casts a long shadow across Platypus’s expectations. Upon waking, he declares, “Today is my lucky day.” Why he feels so is not clear, but it’s not a bad attitude to strike in the early morning, taking the optimistic high road. Then he runs into a little trouble with his kite: the string is all tangled; it snaps in the wind and sticks in a tree; the branch Platypus is crawling on breaks and sends him punishingly earthward. He tries painting—enough of that kite—but the wind plays havoc with the paper and then the rain douses him good. Platypus makes a beeline for his bed—enough of the world, forsooth—there to find a banana and a missing, beloved stuffed toy under the covers. Things are looking better. He opens a closet to find an old go-cart, which he takes outside, modestly crashes into a tree, whereupon the kite tumbles from the branches and the day can start anew. As in his introductory story about this winsome character (Platypus, p. 577), Riddell places his watercolor and black ink spots on wide expanses of white, creating focal points that carry the tale. Comical in its own low-key way, what succeeds here is the note of cheery hope—even that dive into the bed looks like it had to be fun. Keep on smiling. (Picture book. 2-4)