All unrelated, all interesting, all different. You can sort of see the hook, of a series of stories all based on the imaginative grandfather's tall tales. And so forth.Īfter the grandfather finishes his tall tale about a town where food falls from the sky, the next day dawns and life continues, and nobody thinks that the story was anything other than that. Poor Floyd, whose birthday cake was cobbled from brussel sprouts, peanut butter, and mayonnaise. A baseball game called "on account of pie". Small election posters for Stu Pott and Anne Chovie. Traffic snarled on Lower Intestine Street, for instance. It was intricately illustrated, with little sight gags that observant readers-parents-could pick out. It had the perfect framing device, of a grandfather spinning a tall tale tangentially related to the day's events, and the bulk of the story, the story within the story, is nothing more than that. Once upon a time, there was the perfect children's book (not this one).
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