Babar is the ultimate 'grandparents' house' book. It's beautiful to look at, but the story is a total product of its time.
You've got a hunter killing the mom in the first few pages and a heavy-handed 'city life is better than the wild' vibe that hasn't aged particularly well. It’s not 'brain rot,' but it might be 'boredom rot' for a modern kid.
Read it for the art history, but maybe keep a more modern book nearby for when the colonialist subtext starts feeling a bit too heavy for your Tuesday night bedtime routine.






