Over the weekend, I insisted my friend Lindsay buy MISS NELSON IS MISSING for her three-year-old twins. On the ride home from the bookstore, I got nervous that MISS NELSON wouldn't live up to the hype; how could the kids possibly love the book as much as I promised them they would, as much as I remembered loving it when I was little? I shouldn't have worried:
We read it six times in a row. We would have read it more, but then it was time to go to bed.