By Tom Percival
When one frustration too many finally boils over, Ravi turns into an actual tiger, roaring and scaring everyone off, until he's ready to change back.
Ravi is the smallest in his family and he is tired of it. He's too little for the big slide, always last in the queue, never the one who gets listened to. He holds it in and holds it in, and then at the park one frustration too many hits, and Ravi doesn't just get angry, he turns into a tiger. He roars. He growls. He bares his teeth, knocks things flying, and chases the other children away. Being a tiger feels wonderful for about a minute. Then everyone's gone, the fun is over, and nobody wants to play with a tiger. Ravi has to breathe, calm all the way down, say sorry, and turn back into a boy who can use his words.
This one gets something a lot of anger books miss: the explosion is fun for a second. Ravi loves being a tiger before it costs him anything, which is honest about why a child lets a temper off the leash in the first place. Then the book lets the cost land gently, the empty park, the friends gone, and shows the way back without a single lecture. For the child whose anger comes out as roaring and pushing rather than words, this is a mirror they'll recognize instantly.