I read The Grass is Always Greener Over the Septic Tank when I was in high school. I devoured If Life Is a Bowl of Cherries, What Am I Doing In the Pits? when I was in college.
After my boys were born, I read At Wit's End and Motherhood: The Second Oldest Profession. (The motherhood title still makes me laugh.)
I insisted on reading numerous passages of her book, A Marriage Made in Heaven or Too Tired for an Affair, aloud to my poor husband while we were trapped in an airplane en route to a family wedding. He was my captive audience. "You gotta hear this one," I said repeatedly. At times I laughed so hard I could barely breathe.
I did the same thing when I read When You Look Like Your Passport Photo, It's Time to Go Home.
I'm grateful I married a patient man.
One of my favorites is Forever, Erma, a collection of her most loved columns and essays. When I got to the last section and read tributes others had written about her -- including her husband and kids -- I sobbed.
Her writing spoke to me because she was real and honest in her struggles as a parent, spouse, and friend. She was crazy about her kids, and they made her crazy. Her rare gift made the ordinary moments of life seem extraordinary. When she shared her experiences, many of us felt we weren't alone.
Today I got word that a piece I submitted to the University of Dayton's Erma Bombeck Writers' Workshop blog was posted on the Erma Bombeck website. I wrote it during a chaotic snow day when my boys were much younger.
I'm honored and thrilled. I hope someone who has experienced a snow day with young children smiles in recognition.
Click here to read it.