The lowest form...

In preparation for this book talk that I'll be doing tomorrow (or maybe Tuesday, if I chicken out), I've been leafing through all those books I listed before and a few more that I've added. I'm trying to figure out what I'd say about why I like, love, and hate them.

I have only just realized that I like Amelia Bedelia and The King Who Rained for the same reason. It is my theory that, through these books, my mother developed my budding sense of humor and turned me onto puns.

My husband says that puns are the lowest form of humor, a quote I know he stole from somewhere. I finally have the proof to show him how my development was a sidistic experiment my mother dreamed up to make her kids more like herself. She made me left-handed, she made me think in puns, she made me laugh at puns. Anything else her power didn't touch? Not much.