Don't Call Me SPIKE! A Porcupine Named Fluffy by Helen Lester

Baby Porcupine needs a name. But Mr. and Mrs. Porcupine are stumped.

SHOULD THEY CALL HIM SPIKE?

NO. SPIKE WAS TOO COMMON.

It seems that in Porcupine country, most of the likely names for a little porcupine have already been taken. Lance and Quillian are classy, but, alas, cliched. Even the offbeat names like Pokey and Prickles have been pre-empted.
Needleroozer?

Are you kidding?

 Finally they come to an agreement.

LET'S CALL HIM FLUFFY!

It's an original, if improbable name for a little porcupine, all right. But as he grows up and his quills lose any soft, fluffy qualities they might have had, Fluffy begins to wonder whether his name is all that fitting.

And when he backs into a door and finds himself stuck fast to it, Fluffy has serious doubts.

Growing up porcupine is not without its hazards. Fluffy perforates his mattress when he tries to sleep on his back. A warm bubble bath makes his quills soggy but not soft. And when he holds an umbrella over his head, he pokes so many holes in it that he might as well try to stay dry under a colander. He tries whipped cream, shaving cream, feathers, and marshmallows, but he never achieves the intended fluffitude.

... THE TRUTH REMAINED.

FLUFFY WASN'T.

And then one day Fluffy meets up with a very large white rhinoceros who threatens to get rough and belligerently asks his name.  Fluffy fearfully answers, "Fluffy."

THE RHINOCEROS SMILED.  HE GIGGLED.

The more the rhino giggles, the more amused he gets.  Soon he's rolling on the grass and howling with laughter at the preposterous idea of a porcupine named Fluffy.

Fluffy is uncomfortable, and hoping to change the subject, inquires about the rhino's own name.

Even more giggles and gales of laughter follow. Fluffy shyly tries some guesses--Hubert? Herman? Harold?

"NO," GASPED THE RHINOCEROS. "IT'S H... H...  H... 

"... HIPPO!"

Helen Lester's and Lynn Munsinger's beloved porcupine tale, A Porcupine Named Fluffy (Houghton Mifflin, 2013) is back in a sharp new full-sized paperback edition, a story which humorously makes the point that no matter how silly your name may seem, there's always someone with one that's even funnier, someone who may even turn out to be your new best friend.  Munsinger's wryly  humorous illustrations, familiar from her collaborations with Lester in their best-selling Tacky the Penguin series and the award-winning Hooway for Wodney Wat and Wodney Wat's Wobot,  make this one a storytime favorite.

Pointed Wordplay: Mr. Prickles: A Quill-Fated Love Story by Kara LaReau

MR. PRICKLES WAS NOT A PARTICULARLY FRIENDLY FELLOW.

MUCH OF HIS UNFRIENDLINESS WAS DUE TO THE FACT THAT MR. PRICKLES WAS A PORCUPINE.

AT FIRST MR. PRICKLES TRIED TO MAKE FRIENDS WITH THE OTHER FOREST ANIMALS.

But it's tricky to make a close friend when you're hard to get, er, close to.

And the cliquishness of those fur-weather friends in the forest is not much help either.

"YOU'RE NOT CUTE LIKE US!" SAID RACCOON. "OR CUDDLY LIKE US!" SAID CHIPMUNK.

"OR PLAYFUL LIKE US!" SAID SKUNK.

"I AM INSIDE," SAID MR. PRICKLES.

But the would-be playmates can't get past his prickly persona, and being excluded from the group doesn't do Mr. Prickles' personality any favors either. Their pointed quips pierce his soul, and Mr. Prickles feels he'll always be a quilled outcast, unfriended by his particular social network.

But it's a big world out there in the forest, and one day Mr. Prickles bumps into a similarly equipped and be-quilled personage, in the form of Miss Pointypants, and it seems that Cupid's arrow may have made its way to his heart. Even though their would-be pals nickname the quilled couple "Spike and Barb," it seems that love will find a way and the two prickly personalities may find a way to each others' hearts in a quill-fated friendship.

Author Kara LaReau is lookin' sharp with pointed puns in her latest, Mr. Prickles: A Quill-Fated Love Story (Roaring Brook, 2011), her wordplay ably portrayed in Scott Magoon's playful pictures. As they suggest, everybody has some prickles sometimes, and the trick is learning how to get close enough to see the non-prickliness on the inside.

Quills and porcupines are quite popular these days, making it easy to pair this one with other porcupine picture books that make the same point--Paul Schmid's Hugs from Pearl (see my review here) and Laurie Isop's How Do You Hug a Porcupine?, (reviewed here), two tales that make the point that getting close means learning to see the person inside the prickles.

Not So Tight! Hugs from Pearl by Paul Schmid

PEARL IS SWEET. SHE'S A VERY GOOD FRIEND.

SHE PLAYS FAIR. SHE SHARES HER LUNCH TREATS, AND BEST OF ALL....

PEARL LOVES TO HUG!

But Pearl is not perfect. Pearl's problem is that she is prickly. No, she's not a petulant or pugnacious or persnickety personality. Pearl's problem is that she is a porcupine!

Her classmates say "OUCH!" a lot. Her teacher keeps the Band-Aids handy. Soft-hearted Pearl prefers not to hurt anyone, and her quillaciousness is getting in the way of her personal relationships. What to do?

She tries long hot baths to soften the quills. She pokes pincushions on the offending points. She even talks her mom into a butch-style quillcut. But none of these procedures are permanent solutions to the prickly problem. But Pearl is persistent. She perseveres at her search for a solution, and one day, observing bees working around a thorny rose bush, she comes up with a compromise that cuts down on the need for so many Band-Aids at school.

Paul Schmid's newest, Hugs from Pearl (Harper, 2011), takes a look at personal problems that flow, not from what kids do so much as from what they are. Kids are tall, short, nearsighted, shy, clumsy, and a whole passle of physical characteristics that can affect relationships, and Pearl is a porcupine who takes her innate prickliness in hand and finds a useful work-around to deal with it. Schmid's illustrations are simple, funny, and telling, pointing up this character's real dilemma and her courage in taking ownership of it and persisting in finding a solution. Pearl is a girl whose loving nature shines through in a sweet and satisfying story.

For more giggles, pair Pearl with Deborah Underwood's A Balloon for Isabel, reviewed here for a pair of sisters-above-the-skin, a prickly pair of porcupine protagonists who find a way to make their quills work for them.

A Bang-Up Graduation: A Balloon for Isabel by Deborah Underwood

"NO FAIR," SAID ISABEL.

"YEAH, NO FAIR!" SAID WALTER.

IT WAS TWO DAYS BEFORE GRADUATION.

IN TWO DAYS THE POSSUMS,THE RACCOONS, AND ALL THE OTHER ANIMALS WOULD GET BALLOONS.

BUT NOT THE PORCUPINES.

Porcupine preschoolers Isabel and Walter are tired of watching their classmates get holiday balloons while they get yet another bookmark. It's high time for a porcupine protest.

Ms. Quill, prickle-covered too, admits to a secret balloon yen herself, but points out patiently that balloons are definitely a bust around porcupines. They're just not safe for the pop prone, she adds. Someone could be frightened by the big bang, and a flying popped balloon could cause an eye injury. Walter and Isabel suggest graduation goggles for everyone, but Ms. Quill persists with her no-pop protocol.

Isabel, however, is not yet out of anti-pop plans. From a cardboard box she fashions a pop-stopping set of armor, but finds she has a definite doorway problem. Pillows strapped over their quills are easily perforated, leaving a trail of down everywhere they go. Wrapping Walter in plastic bubble wrap just sets their classmates off in a popping party around Walter's protective packing at school.

There's only one day left to come up with a pop-proofing plan. Then, at a cookout in his backyard, Isabel admires the table spread with candies from Walter's father's sweet shop. Her sharp eyes fall upon a jar of brightly colored gumdrops. "Poof!" Isabel spots a possible solution!

The next day Isabel, jelly candies impaled on the tip of every quill, bursts into the classroom.

"WE'RE POP-PROOFED!" SHOUTED ISABEL. "NOW MAY WE HAVE BALLOONS?"

Isabel and Walter reveal their graduation day pop-proof quill-dos--each quill prettily capped with a bright gumdrop, ready for their graduation balloons just like the rest of their class.

MS. QUILL BLINKED. SHE STARED. SHE TOUCHED ONE OF ISABEL'S GUMDROPS WITH HER PAW.

"I DON'T SEE WHY NOT," SHE SAID FINALLY.

"ARE THERE ANY GUMDROPS LEFT?" WHISPERED MS. QUILL.

Success is sweet, and Isabel, Walter, and even Ms. Quill join the pop-proof balloon-bearing parade at graduation.

Deborah Underwood's new A Balloon for Isabel (HarperCollins, 2010) is a great tribute to the powers of mind over matter as the persistent Isabel finds the perfect plan to realize her dream of marching with her own graduation balloon in hand. Laura Rankin helps out Underwood's deft foreshadowing (Walter eagerly swaps the ubiquitous gumdrops in his lunchbox for Isabel's broccoli) with her palette of jelly-bean colors, right down to Isabel's seemingly endless supply of pastel Mary Jane Jellies and Ms. Quill's bead necklaces which look like a string of gumdrops themselves. The final page, showing the happy Walter and Isabel--not to mention Ms. Quill, with her jelly-do, a huge pink balloon, and a very satisfied smile--will surely bring a smile to readers as well.