I'm Becoming My Mother

Mix a quart of wholesome domestic advice, a pint of cynical humor, a teaspoon of hope, and a pinch of rage. Pour into a Tupperware dish, and boil for fifty years. That's the recipe for Anne Taintor's hilarious send-up of post-war paradise and marital bliss. Even if you never sang an ode to your apron or fell in love with an appliance, you'll revel in these delicious delicacies of discontent.