A full-frontal attack on the over-population crisis.
This book was published in 2001. So why am I reading a "topical humor" book that's older than any of Jeffrey Epstein's girls? First, while I stick to my claim that I've forgotten more than most people will ever know, the fact remains that I HAVE forgotten a lot of stuff. Second, the "joys" of parenting haven't changed since the dawn of mankind. Each generation believes that its brilliant parenting will produce children who won't drive them crazy, then lives to regret their optimism. Third (and this should go first) it was on sale for $2.
Frankly, this book doesn't deserve the three stars I'm giving it. It's a sloppily put-together collection of bits from the author's long-running newspaper column. Was Dave desperate for money? Did he "owe" his publisher a book and lacked the time or inclination to actually write new stuff? Or did his publisher assign a low-level, poorly-paid hireling to read the back columns and pull out anything vaguely related to parenting? It's surprising, but even successful writers have little control over that happens to their material once it's in the hands of the publishers.
It's a skimpy one-hundred pages and no effort was made to put the pieces into recognizable order. The author's son is a middle-school student on one page, regresses to being a baby or toddler on the next page, then morphs into a high-school kid two pages over. Watch out for whiplash.
There's no introduction and no ending. Even the title is awkward and unfunny. It was thrown together and it suffers from lack of care and professionalism. It speaks well of Barry's talent that the book is an enjoyable read in spite of itself. There are lots of chuckles and a few belly laughs. If you can get it cheap, I can recommend it.