If you loved how the frogs in Tuesday just lift off their lily pads and drift past living-room TVs and clotheslines as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, you’ll love Harold and the Purple Crayon. Harold casually draws a moon, a forest, an ocean, even a dragon, then sketches his own way home. It’s that same breezy, make-it-up-as-you-go nighttime wonder, with magic that feels effortless and fun.

You enjoyed the nocturnal glide in Tuesday—frogs surfing rooftops, spooking a dog, and leaving police to puzzle over lily pads at sunrise. In the wordless classic The Snowman, a boy’s snowman comes to life and whisks him on a silent, breathtaking overnight flight over fields, rooftops, and city lights, returning just as morning breaks. It delivers that same hush, wonder, and dawn-after-the-magic sigh.

Part of the fun in Tuesday is watching the pictures do all the storytelling—the frogs experimenting with their new air-time, swooping through windows and hitching a ride on a laundry line. Chalk offers the same visual, cause-and-effect delight: three kids find a bag of magical chalk, and whatever they draw comes alive—until a T. rex forces a clever, wordless escape. No exposition, just pure visual magic.

If the sight gags in Tuesday—like airborne frogs buzzing a startled dog and sailing past a baffled TV-watcher—made you grin, the straight-faced absurdity of Click, Clack, Moo: Cows That Type will tickle you. Cows discover a typewriter, start issuing demands, and kick off tense (and hilarious) negotiations with Farmer Brown. The humor builds through perfectly timed notes and visual punchlines.

The wink of a twist at the end of Tuesday—the promise of next Tuesday’s flying pigs—suggests a world stranger than it looks. In The Garden of Abdul Gasazi, a runaway dog bolts into a magician’s estate, and what follows keeps you guessing: was the dog truly turned into a duck, or was it an elaborate trick? The final reveal (that chewed-up hat!) lands with the same playful, head-tilting jolt.