Agapanthus Hum is always in motion, a packet of energy who also happens to wear glasses, which cause her no end of trouble. When she smothers her parents--called good little Daddy and good little Mommy--with kisses, her glasses come off and swing from one ear. When doing a handstand, the glasses drop off entirely and get crushed when Agapanthus crashes down upon them: ""Her hum puffed out like a birthday candle, and her head went quiet,"" but only briefly. Her parents are sweet and kind and utterly forgiving (absurdly so, as Cowley makes clear) and mention that she is one fine acrobat all the same. The ultimate solution is for good little Mommy to hold Agapanthus's glasses during practice. When Agapanthus attends an acrobat show and learns that at least one professional acrobat who wears glasses gives them to her mother when she performs, one little girl's fate is sealed. This story is just like Agapanthus, full of beans, song, and heart; she's so disarming in both text and Plecas's comic illustrations that readers will hope for an encore.