A little boy who's a bit of a slob gets his comeuppance in this dry tale of an unusual infestation. It all starts with one barbarian after some cupcake crumbs. Then there's another in the playroom so far, the boy thinks they're kinda cute and not hard to handle, though his mom is incensed. Before long, though, there are warring hordes of swarthy barbarians building pillow forts, having food fights, filling their house with snoring, snarling, belching, badgering, grumbling, growling, loitering, looting, and lazing savages. Fearing's riotous, richly colored scenes are full of hilarious details such as a barbarian under the table, getting into the cat food, or another trying (very unsuccessfully) to hide under a couch cushion which will keep tots poring over the densely packed spreads, hunting for more background antics. The barbarians' expressive, goggle-eyed faces make them seem almost guileless, in comical contrast to their brutish behavior. The ultimate lesson, that kids should keep tidy, is a touch heavy-handed, but little ones will be tickled by this outlandish tale all the same.--Hunter, Sarah Copyright 2016 Booklist

After a boy ignores his mother's warning that crumbs attract pests, his messy habits draw a horde of goofy, destructive barbarians to the house. When mousetraps and exterminators fail, the boy cleans up his mess, finally compelling the barbarians to leave. Pencil and digital illustrations highlight the exaggerated cartoonish antics of the barbarians during the pillaging of the besieged family's home. (c) Copyright 2018. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

A typical case of untidiness is taken to a magnificent extreme. When a boy's mother warns him that not cleaning up after himself could lead to an infestation of pests, he pooh-poohs her concerns. But then they find a barbarian in the kitchen. After it's removed, a second one, "who'd come seeking glory. And cheese curls," is shooed out of the playroom, but by then it's too late. Barbarians are everywhere, reveling in the messiness they encounter. The family tries traps, a "scare-barian," exterminatorsnothing seems to slow the invaders' love of spilled chips. Young readers may independently come to the protagonist's realization that the only way to rid one's home of barbarians is to do the unthinkable: clean up. A cute ending shows that after the barbarian scourge is eradicated, failure to attend to proper bathtime niceties brings on a new dilemma: pirates! Eaton milks maximum fun and humor out of his illogically logical situation with lovely details such as the barbarians' tendency to put the protagonist's school supplies and action figures to deliciously gross use. This book may make the prospect of a barbarian invasion seem at least initially appealing, but adults will appreciate the message at its heart. Fearing's cheeky style perfectly accompanies these grungy, Viking-helmeted, oddly endearing warriors; they seem all to be white underneath the grime, while all the family members have brown hair and light skin. Break out the mead and pop a horned helmet on your head for the funniest pest invasion this side of Troms. (Picture book. 4-7) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

PreS-Gr 2-In the spirit of David McPhail's Edward and the Pirates and David Shannon's How I Became a Pirate, a boy learns that his untidy habits have the unwelcome effect of inviting barbarians into his house. At first, the boy ignores his mom's pleas to clean his room to avoid attracting pests. What's the worst that could happen? Ants? Mice? When barbarians, who revel in the chaos and snack leavings, show up, the boy is delighted-until they start using his toys to clean their ears and keep him up at night with battles over popcorn and sandwich leftovers, that is. The family's attempts to oust the intruders fail, and the boy realizes that his only solution is to clean his room. Eaton's text is silly and witty ("But that afternoon in the playroom, I ran into Törr, who'd come seeking glory. And cheese curls!"), but the description of a big-bearded barbarian's use of mom's lipstick as "war paint" could be problematic. Fearing's cartoon illustrations make the Viking-esque barbarians look more ridiculous than frightening. Many of the spreads include funny details, such as the invaders snacking on cat food, building forts from stolen blankets and pillows, and making a fire out of croquet mallets in the garage. VERDICT Purchase for larger libraries seeking goofy read-alouds for older preschoolers and early elementary students.-Mary Kuehner, Arapahoe Library District, CO © Copyright 2017. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

"If you don't clean up after yourself, we're going to get pests!" a boy's mother complains after surveying the detritus that her son leaves in his wake. "What's the worst that could happen?" he asks. "We get a couple of ants? A few flies? A little bitty mouse?" Then barbarians show up, drawn by the squalor of half-empty juice boxes, stray cookies, and open bags of cheese curls. True to their conquering DNA, they quickly take over, "snoring, snarling, belching, badgering, grumbling, growling, loitering, looting, and lazing savages of all shapes and sizes." The story has the narrative momentum and comic beats of a cartoon short, and although Eaton's (How to Track a Truck) text tends toward the literal, Fearing (Superhero Instruction Manual) has a broad visual repertoire when it comes to goofy, hirsute men in animal pelts and horned hats. It's the truth served up with a good laugh, and it gives parents a new calamity to invoke the next time they're confronted with a messy room. Ages 4-8. Author's agent: Tanya McKinnon, McKinnon McIntyre. Illustrator's agent: Sean McCarthy, Sean McCarthy Literary. (Feb.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.