It's a totally rubbish story, which is a common feature of a lot of children books.
The thinking seems to go
"oh, I have a crap, half-baked idea for but I can't be bothered turning it into a real story...
I know! I'll write a children's book and hope the youth of the audience and the pictures will cover the paucity of anything interesting happening."
It's basically just - take boring ordinary evening, insert tiger.
If it had been written more recently there'd be a whole series of them - The TIger Who Came For Breakfast, The Tiger Who Went to Mass, The Tiger Who Came to Playgroup, The Tiger Who Went to the Park.
All about totally boring shit where a tiger showed up and nothing of any note happened.
DD1 did love this book for a while though when she was 1.5. Now I'd like to say that's all that matters, but actually screw her, I was the one who actually had to READ it. Over and over and over again.
Stupid Daddy with his keys and his fancy cafe pretensions.