Wild rumpus

In the Observer today is a list of favourite ‘mood-enhancers’ – The Happy List. (And it was certainly a relief to turn to this after all the articles of foreboding around a certain event to take place on Friday.)
 
Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are made it onto the list and I could not resist finding a copy, reading it again and sharing one of the wonderful pictures. 

The release of anger and frustration in riotous dance is captured perfectly in this  image of Max in his wolf suit howling at the moon with a gang of shaggy monsters. Let the wild rumpus start, says Max. And just perhaps, his magic trick of staring into all their yellow eyes without blinking once might work in controlling our real or imaginary monsters.
 
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This is one of the family’s favourite books and always has been. In fact the copy I have here is a newish one that I had to buy when Grandad discovered the copy we had had in the family since the children were very young had been claimed by our daughter and taken away. He just had to have a copy to read with his grandchildren, just as he had shared the original with his daughters.
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Was there ever such an inspired ending to a story as when Max gets back home to find his supper waiting for him . . . and it was still hot.