Erma Bombeck's hilarious guide to using self-help books to prosper ormore likelyto perish As far as Erma can tell, her life is going well. Her children speak to her, her husband smiles at her, and she's capable of looking in a mirror without screaming. But her friends know better. No matter how happy Erma thinks she is, she's in need of help, and the only way to fulfillment is a ten-foot stack of self-improvement books. From Sensual Needlepoint to...

Erma Bombeck's timelessly witty look at the hidden side of married life Ever since she was a child, Erma Bombeck has been an expert worrier, and married life has only honed that skill. She gets anxious about running out of ball bearings; about snakes sneaking in through the pipes; about making meaningful conversation on New Year's Eve. Married life, she realizes, is an unpredictable saga even when you know exactly how loud your husband snores every...

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." There are few phrases as sobering, with the possible exceptions of "We have lift-off" and "This country is at war." Yet, as they have done for centuries, millions of courageous men and women continue to walk down the aisle every year, without so much as a job description. Now, in her most autobiographical book, Erma Bombeck puts it all in loving and laughing perspective, as she looks back on her own forty-three-year-but-who's-counting...

If you expect a book about children with terminal illness to be depressing, prepare to be surprised. Despite struggling against incredible odds, these children are full of life, hope and humor. The love, optimism and laughter of these children amazed even Erma Bombeck, America's favorite home humorist. This book chronicles the day-to-day existence of terminally ill children. I Want to Grow Hair . reveals the startlingly deep questions-"would you be...

Madcap, bittersweet humor in classic Erma Bombeck-style. You'll laugh until it hurts and love it! "Any mother with half a skull knows that when Daddy's little boy becomes Mommy's little boy, the kid is so wet, he's treading water. What do you mean you're a participle in the school play and you need a costume? Those rotten kids. If only they'd let me wake up in my own way. Why do they have to line up along my bed and stare at me like Moby Dick just...