17 THINGS I’M NOT ALLOWED TO DO ANYMORE

A lass tallies her pranks and ensuing punishments in this Judith Viorst–like plaint. Actually, “punishments” is too strong a word, as stapling her little brother’s hair to his pillow, showing her underpants to classmate Jeremy and then later setting his shoe on fire with a magnifying glass seems to draw no retribution beyond commands not to do it again: “I am not allowed to use the glue anymore.” Some of her misdemeanors are very funny: “I am not allowed to give the gift of cauliflower anymore.” But some actually earn real punishments: a school detention and an escort home by the crossing guard. Finally, when she says the opposite of what she really means—“I’m sorry”—she earns forgiveness. Carpenter uses ink, paint and clipped photos to create energetic scenes featuring a deceptively winning young narrator with short, messy hair and, usually, a confident or smug expression. Some readers may find this young envelope-pusher entertainingly spirited, but there are sure to be those who are going to balk at the notion of pretending to be sorry and having it work. (Picture book. 6-8)