By day, I'm a domestic violence prosecutor. By night, I read romance to restore my faith in love, relationships, and humanity in general.
I remember reading Mercer Mayer's Little Critters book to my younger siblings when we were kids, but I had no idea we actually owned any until my 16-month-old toddled over to me last night, saying "Book! Book!," having pulled this off the shelf in his big brother's room. So I read it to him (dodging his grabby hands as he tried to wrestle the book back from me and tear out the pages--he's still better suited to more indestructible board books, at this age), and it was short enough to hold his attention for the whole story. He also seemed to get the gist of what was happening, as Little Critter tries (and fails) to be helpful -- he kept pointing to the Mother Critter and saying "Mama." ("Book" and "Mama" are two of the dozen or so words he has.)
Anyway, while not the most original children's books I've seen, the Little Critters books are timeless, as relevant now as they were thirty years ago when I read them to my baby brother.