In prose that reads like a primer parody and pictures in mod mauve and green (Danny) or mauve and orange (Hannah), both almost-three year-olds are declaratively, interrogatively, and imperatively run through their separate routines -- from an unpromising good morning (""This is Danny's breakfast. What do you eat for breakfast? Hurry up and drink your milk, Danny"") to a reiterative good night (""Good night town. . . moon. . . toys. . . room. . . mommy. . . daddy. . . world and everybody! Now. . . Hannah needs someone to say good night to her. Will you say it? Say, 'Good night, Hannah'""). Good grief.