When I was four-years-old, we moved into a new tract house on a street named Maxon Lane in Chino, CA. Down the street about ten houses or so, lived this girl named Brandi, whom I also went to school with and was in the same class with through third grade, before I moved to Riverside and became a statistical Generation X latch-key kid. And never heard from Brandi again.
Or at least until through the magic of Facebook and becoming reacquainted with a couple other childhood friends who also lived on Maxon Lane, and seeing Brandi on their friends list. After becoming reacquainted with Brandi, and enjoying her hilariously observant Facebook posts, I realized we had quite a bit in common – namely we were both married to doctors, both had a crazy sense of humor, and both loved to write. So when she started her blog, Tales From Suburbia, I knew it was going to be great. And it was.
This year, she published a book by the same name, and I’m going to brag and let you all know I got the first autographed copy. Her claim is that the book can be read in the same amount of time as it takes to drink a bottle of wine – the 750ml size – and she has personally timed this twice!
Okay, so about the book. If you are a parent, you will love this book. The stories are spun with humor and they are so dead-on, as if she is reiterating to you one of your adventures. With me, it was, “As an adult, I would rather jab something sharp into my eye repeatedly than to step foot into a Chuck E. Cheese’s.” Ugh! I fucking HATE that place, and am so glad my kids no longer have any desire to go now that there is an even greater hell called John’s Incredible Pizza. Ahem. Where was I? Uh, yes, The book is filled with other things parents can relate to, like, “Good morning! I’m Barb and this is my husband, Morie. We’re here to talk about pornography with you.” Okay, maybe you can’t relate. But you can read the book, have a bottle of wine, have a few laughs, and maybe shed a few tears.