Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
Praising the "humorous [and] intricately detailed" art and the author's "deadpan delivery," PW said this tale of three eccentric, highly domesticated hens offers "off-the-wall fun." Ages 3-7. (Feb.)
School Library Journal
K-Gr 3A fable that celebrates individual differences and our appreciation and perception of them. Well structured and delicately told, the story tells of three chickens, each of whom has something she loves to do, even though she does it badly. Violet loves to bake, but frequently fills the house with smoke. Poppy loves to knit "hats with chin straps" and "turtleneck sweaters with pom-poms." Babs loves to sing even though she is often off-key. Still, the sisters appreciate and support one another. However, the neighbors are unhappy with the smoke and the noise and they spend hours discussing what to do about the trio. Then an old wolf moves into the neighborhood and scares all of the residentsexcept for the sisters. They invite him in and soon they are frightening himcooking and knitting and singing to him until he runs away. The neighbors never complain about the sisters again. This tale, filled with gentle humor, pokes fun at the hapless generosity and navet of the sisters as well as the suspicions and prejudices of the neighbors. The illustrations reinforce the text, giving personality to the feathered siblings, especially as they surround the desperate wolf. Their matronly air is as clear as the grumpiness and fear exhibited by the neighbors. A winner that is sure to please at story time.Jane Marino, Scarsdale Public Library, NY
Kirkus Reviews
Numeroff (Two for Stew, 1996, etc.) sends up the Big Bad Wolf story genre with this tale of an old wolf, new in the neighborhood, who is done in by a trio of contentedly incompetent hens: Their burned cookies, obsessive knitting, and off-key singing send him packing "to live with his mother in Atlantic City." The chicken sisters' relieved neighbors conclude that all the smoke, noise, and unsolicited gifts of itchy knit hats might be worth putting up with after all. It's pure slapstick—the wolf has false teeth and was never a menace in the first place. The pictures are the highlight of all this silliness: In the sisters' living room, every conceivable object is encased in a pastel-colored knitted cover; the wolf, baring a decidedly human-looking pair of dentures, lurks in lush greenery; a pair of baby squirrels run about disguised as salt-and-pepper shakers.
