My mom just loves those Chicken Soup for the (insert basically anything here - unwed teenage mother’s, stripper with a heart of gold’s, sad dyslexic triceratops’s) Soul.  She has a whole stack of them besides the toilet in her bathroom.  I like to refer to it as her library.  It contains many leather bound books that are almost exclusively paperback copies of Chicken Soup for the Soul books.

My favorite one by far is Chicken Soup for the Mother’s Soul.  I’m not a mother, but I like to pretend I am when I dress my dog up in baby clothes and when I take my niece to the grocery store on weekends.

“Your daughter is adorable!”

“She’s not mine! But thanks for reminding me my ovaries are slowly drying up!”

This book is addicting.  I’ll expect to go in there just to pee, which takes me roughly 30 seconds on a good day, and I end up spending upwards to an hour in there hunched over this book and letting out choked up sobs like a baby bird begging for its dinner.

My favorite story is the one below because it reminds me so much of my dad…

except for the fact that he’d totally cover the sleeping baby with 15 blankets and a space heater in order to keep it warm.  I think his number one fear in life is my niece freezing to death.

“Why isn’t the baby wearing a hat!?!”

“Because it’s 80 degrees outside dad!”

I tear up everytime I read it.  Seriously I just read it again and I’m getting choked up…