The amazing and true story of Tooth Mouse Pérez

Via a lengthy reportorial account, the creators of The True Story of a Mouse Who Never Asked for It present a thorough faux-documentary about the Spanish Tooth Mouse, whose job was to collect and replace lost baby teeth with adult versions "as strong and straight as mice teeth." Herreros traces changes in custom from people throwing lost baby teeth up onto rooftops, to leaving them in a chimney or stovepipe, to tucking them underneath children's pillows. The narrative also recounts the story--documented, it indicates, by a priest for a young Spanish prince--of a 19th-century Tooth Mouse, who lived in a candy store on a fashionable Madrid street and acquired the surname Pérez. Subsequent pages describe the growing Pérez family, an eventual alliance with the Tooth Ants of Italy, and the immigration of the resultant winged beings to the U.S., where they were perceived as tooth fairies. Warm, densely textured drawings by Lópiz provide notes of cheery surrealism, as a Tooth Mouse wears a chef's toque the size of a molar and winged entities dance across the surface of a vinyl record. Across the woolgathering prose, one thing is certain: losing teeth, Herreros writes, signifies "the gift of growing up." An author's note concludes. Ages 7--10. (Mar.)

An examination of that universal milestone signaling maturation--losing a tooth--that also offers a tongue-in-cheek history of tooth collection. Tooth mice have been around for a long time. In the beginning, they lived on thatched and then tiled roofs, catching the baby teeth that youngsters threw upward. Woe to the child who missed the target; they would not get a replacement, and "if you can't chew…you can't grow!" Times change, and the narrative follows the adaptations brought on first by taller buildings, then by electricity (which led to the move to pillows and the introduction of gifts and notes). Thanks to the writings of Father Coloma, readers learn how the marriage of Madrid's Tooth Mouse Pérez to an ant from northern Italy led to baby with "ant wings, like her mother." Following the offspring's immigration, American children mistook the collector for a fairy. Lópiz's softly textured compositions, populated by Lionni-esque rodents, offer whimsical scenes that readers will linger over. In a brilliant parody of Diego Velázquez's Las Meninas, Pérez's daughters, decked out in cupcake liner skirts, confer in a candy shop that mirrors the setting of its inspiration. Herreros' experience as a professional storyteller comes through clearly. Although the text, translated from Spanish and drawing from actual Spanish myths, may seem wordy, Herreros' deadpan tone, second-person form of address, and folktale cadences will keep listeners rapt. The few humans depicted have skin the color of the page or appear light-skinned. (This book was reviewed digitally.) A deeply humorous, beautifully imaginative celebration of growing up. (author's note) (Picture book. 5-7) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.