Thanks to Google Alerts, I ran across this review of a play version of Goodnight Moon. As I sat there and thought about it, I scratched my head ever more ferociously. Um . . . why exactly did the world need this?
God knows, Margaret Wise Brown's most famous work is a bedtime classic, and will probably never go out of print (or at least not until we humans have extinctified rabbits, mice, cows, and possibly the moon), but there's just not that much story there. A bunny is going to sleep. The end. Oh, and there may be some mice involved.
I appreciate the instinct of playwrights and screenwriters (anyone remember the live-action Grinch movie? Yeah, I see you there in that fetal ball) to pick up a familiar commodity for some surefire cash, but at some point you've just got to let it be.