With a sense of irony (and humor) as sharp as this dinosaur trio’s talons, Willems’s retelling is a sure bet for audiences who have moved beyond more gently witty fare. They are “definitely not hiding in the woods,” peeking fiendishly from the treetops, as “a poorly supervised little girl named Goldilocks came traipsing along.” Goldilocks doesn’t hesitate to enter the dinos’ house or stick her whole head in their food (“who cares about temperature when you’ve got a big bowl of chocolate pudding? Not her”), and she wises up just in time to give herself, if not the dinosaurs, a happy ending. rexes and smaller brown dino lick their lips and make comments suggestive of a plot (“I sure hope no innocent little succulent child happens by our unlocked home”), while the mock-naïve narration declares their innocence. Having cooked up three bowls of chocolate pudding andĪrranged their house “just so,” the two olive-green T. Once upon a time, there were three hungry dinosaurs: Papa Dinosaur, Mama Dinosaur anda Dinosaur who happened to be visiting. In this sly sendup, Goldilocks (who could be a cousin of Knuffle Bunny’s Trixie) ventures into the home of three diabolical dinosaurs.
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