One day Mr. Pocher discovered that his wife, Mrs. Pocher, was reading a book called Moody Bitches. He was more than a little surprised since his wife was anything but moody. If he had a complaint about Mrs. Pocher it was that she was entirely too cheerful, too damn nice all the time. With the grandkids (they had two now, ages two and four, with another on the way) Mrs. Pocher was so generous and accommodating that Mr. Pocher sometimes was afraid they would refuse to go back home.  It was a bone of contention.  Mr. Pocher did not believe in spoiling kids.

It settled his mind a little when upon investigation he learned the book was about menopause. He figured Mrs. Pocher was either going through menopause or about to. That she never mentioned it confirmed his belief that it was an event that took place entirely in the female sphere, and female geography was never one of Mr. Pocher’s strong subjects. Still, Mr. Pocher was a prudent man and began to hide the butcher knives.


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