Reviewed
by Kim Harris Thacker: writer, mommy, and Bookshop Talk co-host
As I
prepare to write this book review, the song, “I Love to Laugh,” from Disney’s Mary
Poppins, runs through my head:
I love
to laugh
Loud
and long and clear.
I love
to laugh
It’s
getting worse ev’ry year!
The
more I laugh,
The
more I fill with glee.
And
the more the glee,
The
more I’m a merrier me!
Don’t Put Lipstick on the Cat: Humorous Tales of Motherhood, by Kersten Campbell, filled me
with absolute glee. It has been a long time since I’ve read such a humorous
book! I generally steer clear of books (and movies) that are touted as
“comedies,” because I find that many of them are funny at the expense of
others—which isn’t the kind of humor that strikes me as funny at all. But in Don’t
Put Lipstick on the Cat, the author follows what I think of as the Golden
Rule of Comedy—“Portray others as you would have others portray you”—in that
she pokes fun at herself and at all the trouble she gets into in her efforts to
follow the original Golden Rule. The Campbell in Don’t Put Lipstick
on the Cat is a big-hearted, well-meaning, slightly devious mom who I would
enjoy chatting with over Ramen Brûlée (Don’t ask—just read Chapter 11.). Of
course, we would be interrupted by regular catastrophe, but what mom isn’t?
Perhaps it’s the very notion that somebody out there has as many mishaps as me
that makes me appreciate this book so much...
Consider
the delightful beginning of Chapter Six, “Rub-a-Dub-Dub, Six Kids in a Tub”:
When
you are a mother in charge of a family, every day is fraught with perilous
dilemmas and burning questions that only you, through your amazing wit and
marvelous ingenuity have the wisdom to solve. You, as a mother, are required to
crack mysteries and solve riddles that are so tough, so astounding, and so mind
boggling, they would catapult even the most exceptional detective mind into
everlasting lunacy. No amateur mind could solve riddles such as these startling
questions you face every day: How did your husband’s underwear get in the
freezer? Who stuck spaghetti all over the cat? What happened to the
Thanksgiving turkey that was sitting on the table a few minutes ago? If your
son didn’t go to the bathroom in the potty, where did he go to the bathroom?
And last but not least, how in the world can you get ten children bathed,
brushed, and ready for church in less than ten minutes? This was the burning
question facing me during a visit to my sister-in-law’s house after we woke up
late one Sunday morning.
“What
are we going to do?” screeched my sister-in-law Sue, cracking her knuckles and
pacing in front of the clock. “I’ve only got one bathroom.”
My
sister-in-law is your basic nervous person. This is unfortunate because I am
allergic to nervous people. The allergic reaction I have doesn’t make me
sneeze, it makes me suddenly calm, as if nothing in the world matters,
especially not being late for church. The more nervous my sister-in-law became,
the slower my heart beat until I had to check my breathing to make sure I was
still alive.
“Don’t
worry,” I said with confidence. “I’ve got the perfect solution. Let’s do a
cousin bath assembly line.”
I won’t
continue to quote the chapter. Suffice it to say that things do not go
according to plan (A seventh character may suddenly join the six kids in the
tub, and its name starts and ends with p.).
Um.
Let’s
talk about the writing nitty-gritty, shall we?
Campbell’s
writing is wonderfully wry and also highly visual. The events in each vignette
are described so vividly that the reader is immediately drawn into the story,
as if he or she is actually a nosy neighbor who was disturbed by the commotion
next door and so decided to pop in to make sure everything was okay—and then
decided to pop right back out again, because while things were obviously not
okay, no one was in immediate mortal danger.
Although Don’t
Put Lipstick on the Cat is based on Campbell’s real-life experiences, she
uses made-up names for each of her characters. This not only protects the
identities of the (ahem) innocent, but it also allows Campbell to get at
the personalities of her characters without making extensive explanations for
their behavior. “Scoot,” for example, has a knack for scooting out of the
trouble his antics frequently get him into.
Another
thing worth noting: The Library of Congress Cataloging In-Publication Data
lists this book’s topics as “Families—Humor,” and “Mormon Families—Humor,” but
the hilarity that ensues in each chapter of the book is something that everyone
can relate to—particularly if the reader has ever tried to run a self-propelled
lawn mower or has had a kid in violin lessons, that is. The vignettes are reminiscent
of those found in Please Don’t Eat the Daisies, by Jean Kerr and Cheaper
by the Dozen, by Frank Bunker Gilbreth, Jr. and Ernestine Gilbreth Carey.
They celebrate family life and motherhood and would make the perfect gift for
Mother’s Day—which is only a week away! It’s available in paperback or in a
Kindle edition.
Market:
adult humor, memoir, creative nonfiction (suitable for any age, though more
suited for adults)
Language: none
Sensuality:
the parents kiss
Violence:
a rampaging lawn mower takes a bite out of a cherry tree
Mature Themes: none
Mature Themes: none
No comments:
Post a Comment