Coming to the end of a great fantasy sequence can be a devastating moment. You’ve lived with those characters for so long; you’ve walked in their footsteps, shared their hopes and fears, and stood by them through heartbreak, happiness and as they have faced their greatest challenges. It’s no surprise that re-reading those books where you are taken to somewhere completely different is very popular.

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A farting pony, a racially and culturally diverse cast, a mixed race main character as a young princess with a desire to be a champion warrior only for her birthday, instead of a warhorse, she receives an adorable little pony. Sounds good so far.

Despite the positive female 'girl power' role model whose parents represent mine exactly with a black mother and white father, the cute illustrations (including a veiled warrior woman), the story didn't sit right with me. Yes, the fierce warriors being able to show their soft, cuddly sides at the appearance of the micro pony was nice and all, it just wasn't heartwarming or logical. Pinecone realising her puny pony had value when the warriors paid more attention to the supposedly adorable four-legged creature than her was a little sad.

Generally speaking, picture books don't usually confuse me. The time and place <em>The Princess and the Pony</em> is set is vague. Pinecone is holding a Viking helmet aloft on the first pages, followed by warriors of different times and places including a strongwoman (as opposed to a strongman), a falconer-ess from the Mongolian Eurasian Steppe and a one-eyed Robin Hood. Pinecone's home looks to be some kind of castle with wood beams and animal heads mounted on the walls. Then, at the champion competition, the warriors are in ancient garb while the spectators watching this mass brawl are all in modern clothing clutching foam fingers and popcorn. So this was a Rennaissance fayre and Pinecone isn't really a princess and her parents are in permanent fancy dress? Confused.

As for the brawl the spectators are watching, it was obviously too dangerous and rambunctious for Pinecone to join in with her … spitballs. Yes, you read that right, spitballs. In a fight with adults.

I appreciated the diversity, the feminist edge and the illustrations.

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‘They didn’t notice that all he wanted was a hug.’

A textured tactile cover and adorable pencil illustrations, but an anticlimactic ending ruined what I thought would be a resolution full of love and affection from the power of a simple hug.

Black sheep Felipe, the unloved and unwanted prickly cactus, is apt to harm anything he comes into contact with which limits the possibilities of who or what he can hug. Finally hugging a random crying rock just wasn’t as heartfelt or as meaningful as I was expecting.

A better, more emotional ending would’ve earned Hug Me a higher rating.

Reading Green Eggs and Ham to stubborn children is definitely a preferred alternative to torture. Introducing new foods to the very young can be a gruelling task, for parent and child alike. Seuss teaches that ‘new’ doesn’t automatically mean you’ll hate it. In that respect it kind of reminds me of The Croods with the ‘Anything new is bad’ ethos also being turned on its head.

Confession: this is my first Seuss. Yes, I went through my childhood without laying hands on single copy of the millions of Seuss books sold worldwide. At least give me points for reading one now. I can certainly see why he’s much loved. His delighful combination of the three Rs of poetry – rhythm, rhyme and repetition – are rather pleasing to the ear.