
Books like Dinos To Go
By Sandra Boynton
For the kid who can't sit still through one story but will happily flip through seven, this board book hands them the remote. Bouncy, silly, and full of rhyme, with a wink in every verse.
The numbers 1 through 100 race each other up an apple tree in a rhyming chant, piling higher and higher until bumblebees threaten trouble at the top.
A bright, rhyming romp through a day in the life of birds — from the rooster's dawn crow to the owl's nighttime call — inviting little ones to cheep and tweet along.
A rambunctious crew of dinosaurs shakes tails and stomps feet through a string of silly dance moves — the Shimmy Shimmy Shake, the Quivery Quake, and a rollicking Cha Cha Cha.
When evening falls, a crowd of bats flutters from the rafters to fill a moonlit stadium, watching their own all-stars play a topsy-turvy game of baseball.
A boy sets out walking and spots one animal after another, a black cat, a brown horse, a red cow, each one peeking into view before he sees it fully.
A sound-making wonder named Mr. Brown moos like a cow, hoos like an owl, buzzes like a bee, and even chews gum like a grum-grumming hippo, daring readers to make every noise right along with him.
A cat gets a cupcake and asks for sprinkles to go with it, setting off a chain of requests and small messes that just keeps looping back on itself.
An alphabet parade of animals acts out each letter with a matching verb — an aardvark admiring, beavers ballooning, cats cleaning — all the way to a zigzagging zebra.
A friendly little pick-up truck greets farm animals along a country road, beeping and honking hello — until he gets stuck in the muck and needs his animal friends to push him out.
A cheerful taxi driver named Dan cruises through town picking up a band member by member, each new passenger adding fresh sounds and colors to the growing crowd inside his cab.
A rhyming romp through everything that counts as a house — anthills, dog kennels, corn husks, pea pods — and eventually the surprising idea that a shoe, a mirror, even a word, might have a house too.











































