In a delightfully messy bedroom strewn with art supplies, a young boy leaps about in his newly finished monarch butterfly wings, which flow behind him like a cape. Next, he dons a pair of peacock-feather antennae. Metamorphosis complete, he steps out into a verdant world of smudgy wildflowers and green-streaked fields, where he is free to "spin and swirl / and twist and twirl." This is a particularly gleeful spread, in which Majewski captures snapshots of the boy's fluttering dance in acrylics that mix fine lines with a childlike aesthetic. His cavorting is unceremoniously interrupted when, "DOINK!" a ball hits him in the head. His cheeks glow red as a group of children appear and begin to tease him. Casting off his wings in anger, the boy hides in his room until his father coaxes him out of his comforter cocoon. Together, they craft a new set of wings, and the boy takes flight once more. Majewski taps into his childhood experiences as a queer child in this ode to following one's joy. The book subtly undercuts gender norms and acknowledges bullying; however, the boy exudes and is surrounded by so much beauty, including the loving support of his father, that this outshines any shadow cast by the children's unkindness. A gorgeous story of being true to oneself that will brighten any shelf.

Sometimes parents need to be the wind beneath our wings. This story opens with a young, tan-skinned protagonist with short brown hair making a pair of large butterfly wings (and a pair of antennae) so that they can pretend to fly. Leaving home, the protagonist wanders a verdant landscape, twirling and frolicing. Playtime is cut short, however, when a group of children tease the protagonist and try to pull off the wings. Frustrated, the child heads home to fume in bed. They are cheered up by their father, and the two repair and re-create the butterfly costume so that the child might fly again. Showing the bullies that they don't care about their opinions, the butterfly child dances free, finding a friend along the way. The story uses spare language and lush illustrations to capture the joys (and societal pressures) that result from beating one's own drum. The details of the acrylic illustrations may muddy in large group storytimes, but small groups and individual readers will find a strong message in the book's pages. The bullies are male-presenting, and the only child to offer acceptance is female-presenting, but the father's reaffirming role takes some of the sting out of the stereotypical gender roles presented. The book may tread familiar ground, but it does it so stylishly that many readers will be overjoyed. Characters are racially diverse; the child who befriends the protagonist is brown-skinned. (This book was reviewed digitally.) This flies high. (Picture book. 8-10) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.