It’s that time—the hour of doom wedged between when a toddler first becomes overtired and finally blissfully naps.
Frustration crackles through la casa like a downed power line. Tyrannical tantrums terrorize. Parental paroxysms of panic provoke pandemonium. Quick—to the STROLLERCOASTER! Down the streets of their barrio, Papi and daughter Sam whoosh, clack, and dive. Past the sugar-blasting pastelería, up the hill of no return, down the viaduct of trepidation, along the psychedelic wall of paleta rapture, and through the scratchboard black of Morpheus’ tunnel. The cranky, exhausted toddler is finally overcome by the whirlwind outing and is soon cuddled on the comfy couch with her slumbering Papacito. Ringler’s energetic narrative perfectly mimics the staccato thrills of a roller coaster. From the snap of the buckle to the paternal admonition “Keep your hands and feet inside at all times,” the stroller transforms into a ride Batman would envy. Raúl the Third and Bay’s tongue-in-cheek bilingual commentary planted in illustration details follows the frantic pair everywhere. From the encouraging “Corre” painted on the building they’re whizzing past at the beginning of their adventure to graffiti messages of “Estoy cansada” and “Tired?” as the toddler finally starts winding down, the whole barrio urges the fun-loving father and his thrill-seeking daughter to greater feats of glory.
Kids everywhere will be honing their tantrum skills in hopes of riding their very own strollercoasters.(Picture book. 4-8)