I picked this up on the strength of the title. I'll give any book that makes me laugh out loud in the library a shot. I should have read the flap copy, because this is almost the perfect storm of nonfiction I hate- let me count the ways. The author writes (1)"chick-lit" that is (2)massively popular. This (3)collection of (4)newspaper columns features several (5)guest columns written by the author's daughter. The essays are (6)cute, (7)upbeat, and (8)warmly nonjudgmental. They feature (9)Spanx, (10)old dogs, the (11)hilarious indignities of being a middle-aged (12)suburban American (13)consumer. The coup de grace is the author's (14)awesome relationship with her (15)perfect mother. I think every bit of the writing herein is genuine, and I suspect I'm in the curmudgeonly minority at whom it is not aimed. I think that Scottoline is probably a lovely person in real life. I think she'd be the kind of friend she writes about- the kind who would always have your back, would always cheer you on, and would bring you casseroles when your mom died and bottles of wine when your husband left. But I hated this book.