This story is so disjointed that it's hard to summarize (although I clearly just did); however, one part does jump right out at me: they are trying on underwear they found in a bag in the forest. If I wasn't philosophically opposed to exclamation points, there would be 250 pixels worth at the end of that sentence.
Do not pick this one up off of the shelf. Not even for the cute pictures (they are cute...I'd be tempted to make some of the characters out of felt as stuffed animals if the story weren't so stupid).
Sure, childhood nostalgia is an allowable influence of book selection. But awards? Not so much. Maybe the Caldecott selection board is actually the children's book world version of the Razzies, ever think of that?
Kid goes to sleep, falls out of his bed - and clothes - into the night kitchen, where he almost gets baked in a pie by what appears to be three Oliver Hardys, escapes in a dough airplane, and pours milk from the milky way into the batter, ensuring morning cake for everyone before waking up back in his bed - and clothes? Really?
Almost as good as trying on underwear you found in a bag in the forest.