I bought this book because a friend recommended it to me. After I read it, I called said friend to tell her we could no longer be friends. All I heard were laughs. When she stopped laughing long enough to breathe, I found out she did so because she was trying to punish me for accidentally killing her parakeet, Lassie. In the spirit of good sportsmanship, I congratulated her on a prank well played.I used to think Harriet Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin was the most repulsively sentimental, masturbatory, and self-important work of fiction i would ever be forced to experience. I was wrong. Don't read this. And for God's sake don't buy it. I know this sounds harsh but I really mean it when I say this is worse than Chicken Soup.