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 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 ch as a barbarian under the table, getting into the cat food, or another trying (very unsuccessfully) to hide under a couch cushion ich 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.

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," exterminators—nothing 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 Tromsø. (Picture book. 4-7)

-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.)