THE FIB

In an effort to stave off embarrassment during show and tell, a young boy tells a lie that gets out of hand.

As brown-skinned, dark-haired Pepe watches his diverse classmates share fascinating hobbies and toys, he’s ashamed of the item he’s brought in, a hand-drawn comic book he’s worked on all summer. Instead, he talks up his special pet (in reality, a tiny ball of lint), which he describes as a creature that hails from Mexico, with “horns like a ram, claws like a bear, wings like a bat, eyes like an owl, and a tail like a lion’s.” As one little lie feeds into another, the aptly named Fib grows bigger and more menacing. Pepe’s teacher, Mrs. Apple, explains that there’s only one way to tame a fib: by telling the truth. And just like that, with each truth Pepe utters, the Fib gets smaller until it’s gone entirely. The Fib itself is rightfully the most compelling part of the bold, simple artwork. It starts off looking like a harmless, puffy green creature but grows more intimidating with each page turn. Iniguez and Kwan offer a meaningful visual demonstration of how lies grow and can get out of hand. Pepe’s very real emotions ring true, from the discomfort he feels about his comic book to his relief at coming clean.

An effective and sympathetic exploration of lies—and the importance of telling the truth.