I Knew Two Who Said Moo A Counting and Rhyming Book

by Remy Charlip

Charlip plays with narrative structure the way Barrett plays with sound—each page flips the story on its head with 'fortunately' and 'unfortunately,' creating a cascade of absurd events that build on each other. Like your book, it treats language itself as the playground, making readers giggle at the sheer audacity of the wordplay and the illustrations that dance alongside it.

by Mike Ashley

This one sneaks math concepts into genuinely funny scenarios—a dragon's treasure-counting problem, a vampire's age calculation—so the learning feels like a side effect of the comedy rather than the point. It shares Barrett's gift for making abstract concepts (numbers, patterns) feel tangible and hilarious through unexpected situations.

by Norton Juster

Published in 1961, this is a different era's answer to what Barrett does—Juster builds entire kingdoms around puns and linguistic jokes (the Kingdom of Wisdom, the Doldrums), where the landscape itself is made of wordplay. If you loved how Barrett makes rhyming feel like discovery, you'll find Juster does the same thing but across a whole adventure, with illustrations that enhance every joke.

by Giles Andreae

Here's my surprise pick: it's got the bouncy rhyming rhythm and animal characters of your book, but it sneaks in something deeper about being different and finding your own way. The rhyme scheme is as playful as Barrett's, but Andreae uses that musicality to tell a story with actual heart—proof that silly and meaningful aren't opposites.

by Doreen Cronin

Cronin has the same gift Barrett does for finding humor in unexpected animal voices and situations—her cows typing letters create comedy through character and absurdity rather than just silliness. The rhyming feels natural rather than forced, and like your book, it invites readers to anticipate the joke and feel clever for getting there first.