Strange Tales in Kiddie Lit: The First in a Series

As I've previously noted, LG really enjoys books.
And we really like reading to her. Before every nap, and before bedtime, we read at least one story, which means we've read a lot of stories more than a few times. As you read these stories over and over, you start to notice things.

Like the fact that a lot of kids' books are weird.

Seriously strange, as a matter of fact.

Sometimes it's just poor writing. Take Danny and the Dinosaur, for example. It's a perfectly fine book, to be sure. In a nutshell, it's a fantasy about a young boy who visits a museum, meets a dinosaur, then spends the day adventuring around his town with the titular dinosaur.

Setting aside for a moment any problems about whether or not dinosaurs are alive now, or able to talk, or resemble sauropods who walk upright, there's some strange goings-on here. And it's mostly the fault of the words the author has chosen. What am I talking about?

A little setup for this picture: Danny and the Dinosaur are visiting the zoo, which is a lot of fun, not just for them, but the other zoo patrons as well. Too much fun, in fact, as the Dinosaur is so distracting, no one is paying attention to the other animals. And then this happens:
I realize this is a First Reader book, but page 38 features some pretty strange language, by any measure. Tell me, is "Please go away so people will look at the animals again" really that much harder to read? I'm not a huge stickler for not ending sentences with prepositions, but that's some awkward construction.

To say nothing of the fact that this admonishment comes from a "zoo man." Zoo man? Not Animal Trainer, not Caretaker, not--for crying out loud-- Zookeeper?

I try to imagine the conversation that might've occurred between the author, Syd Hoff, and his editor. Maybe it went something like this:

Syd Hoff: I'm writing this dinosaur book, and I'm stuck on the part about the place with all the animals. What's the name of the place with all the animals?
Editor: That'd be a zoo, Syd.
Syd Hoff: Right, right... who runs that place, the place with all the animals?
Editor: That'd be the Zoo Man, Syd.
Syd Hoff: Great. That's why I keep you around, Word Fixing Man.

Okay, so maybe I'm being a bit hard on a book for little kids. It really is a fun book, and we like it a lot. We actually picked our copy up at a yard sale, because it's tough to find an older copy in good condition online.

But this next book... it's hard to find the words to describe the weirdness on display here, but I'll try.

Goodnight Moon, a beloved classic, sure. For me, the illustrations in general are a little unsettling, but your mileage may vary.

Aside from the general creepiness of the book, I have a some specific issues with the bunny family depicted therein. Both of my problems can be found on this spread:
Any guesses as to what I'm talking about? Take a look at the lower right portion of the picture, under the little bunny's bed.
These nice, pleasant, peaceful looking bunnies have what appears to be a tiger skin rug in their child's room. Setting aside the unpleasantness of a skinned animal in a kid's room, how on earth did these bunnies get a tiger skin rug? Exactly what kind of bunnies are these, anyway?

Creepy bunnies, as evidenced by my next point. In a story that points out nearly every aspect of a child's room (including a bowl full of mush), it's interesting what the author chooses to leave out. First, she leaves out the tiger skin rug. Then she leaves out this little gem.Seriously. That just happened.

What on earth is going on in this picture? Calling it like I see it, there appears to be a enormous bunny--decked out in waders and a bait pouch--fly fishing. Except he's not catching fish. He's catching a smaller, stream-dwelling bunny. That, my friends, is messed up.

In truth, it's not hard to understand why Margaret Wise didn't describe this painting in the text of the book. Look at the other pictures. Cow jumping over the moon? Easy to describe. Three little bears sitting on chairs? Couldn't be simpler. But a cannibalistic, fly-fishing lagamorph who appears to have knocked over a tree for some reason?

I'd be at a loss, too.