Madam President (review)

Most kids merely dream what they'll be when they grow up; Smith's heroine Katy lives the fantasy, charging through her day as self-proclaimed President of the United States. Up before seven, she starts off with orders for the staff (concerning breakfast waffles), snags a photo op on the way to school (baffling an unsuspecting Boy Scout troop), negotiates a peace treaty (between a snarling dog and bristling cat), names her Cabinet (Mr. Potato Head is an able Secretary of Agriculture and a see-through anatomical model handles the Interior), and relies on her Secret Service (cat) to protect her from suspicious schoolmates. She wields her veto power in the school cafeteria, obfuscates her oral report with firm repetitions of "No comment," and works her weary way home, only to find that her mother has alerted her to a disaster (in her messy room). Order restored, Katy's pooped by eight and leaves her clown-faced, stuffed vice president (do we detect some social commentary here?) to deal with the Freedonian ambassador. There's a richness to this zany picture book in its respect for big dreams-Katy is clearly inspired by the national heroes from Frederick Douglass to Susan B. Anthony who populate her books and adorn her walls-and in its gentle nose-tweaking of the political milieu-what else would an aspiring woman president wear but a conservative pants suit? Katy is a square-jawed force to be reckoned with, by turns smug, determined, conciliatory, outraged, and sweetly childlike. That her classmates and offstage parents are oblivious to her esteemed office not only heightens the comedy but also underscores how little regard many citizens pay to the Chief Executive once the heat of election time has cooled. This is a must-have title that will unite both sides of the (lunchroom) aisle.