In the last week, I have read “The Big Wide-Mouthed Frog” about 150 times to my three-year old. She never tires of it. “Again!” she shouts, with a grin as wide as the chirpy frog’s. I gnash my teeth and start anew: “Who are you and what do you EAT?” In the end the loud, rude frog makes a rather undeserved getaway from a slow, polite crocodile. Next time I have to read it, frog is going to get eaten.

To preserve my sanity, I have Charles de Lint’s magical “Jack of Kinrowan” to delve into. (And a whole bunch of fraying old Asimovs that I found in a corner of Afterwords.)

I love that “Jack” the Giant Killer is actually a girl. And not a very thin one either. So although the POV is all over the place, and the plot a bit simplistic, I give the book a thumbs-up!

I’m going to dream of frogs and faeries tonight. They go together, surely?