I recall telling someone once that if Fredrik Backman wrote a book about poop I would still read it. Well… I did! Sort of. I mean, one chapter was about poop. There was some stuff about IKEA, some stuff about the heartwarming world of the WWE, some super serious football talk, and a few other things, but there was definitely poop. And I loved every second of it.

This one is a bit different from his novels. He didn’t need to prove anything or wow anyone with his intellect. He’s imparting wisdom to the one who needs it the most: his child. In a ridiculously funny and self-deprecating style, he deftly illustrates why he’s so amazing. I don’t even mean as a writer or as a dad, but just as a human. He doesn’t take himself too seriously, but he proves that he understands living and loving are serious business. What strikes me the most about these separate essays and vignettes is that Backman can take the most ludicrous and nonsensical anecdotes and make them seem profound, which is often something I see him implement in his novels as well.

I identified the most with this little book (you can read it in one sitting) because I also have children. I also didn’t begin to like all children because I had children. I still find everyone else’s kids amazingly annoying (Really, Fredrik, I felt that HARD!) However, my own children opened up a capacity to love in me for which I previously didn’t think I was capable. And most of the time I feel like I don’t measure up. I’m not the cookie-cutter PTA mom that makes the perfect party favors for class parties which, I might add, she made a week in advance after ironing her child’s t-shirts for the next month of pre-planned days. I’m the one who forgot to send in the box of crackers, which was the one thing on the sign-up list I thought I could manage. So when Backman illustrates his insecurities with fatherhood in such a real-life way, I’m beginning to realize there are reasons I adore him beyond his writing ability. He’s one of my people: awkward, grumpy, highly competent at certain things and only marginally competent with others. I think we just became best friends.

In short, there’s nothing complex about this volume, but it certainly packs a powerful punch if you read between the lines of his humor to actually understand what he’s trying to say. There’s a lot of meaning, and I will also encourage my kids to read this one when they are old enough. Life is hard. Life is complicated. Sometimes it’s ok to sit back, take a breath, and find the humor in the everyday mundane aspects of life. And it never hurts to be able to reflect upon the ways in which we are actually infinitely lucky to have unconditional love and a sense of security when everything else feels like it’s falling apart.

Published May 7, 2019 by Atria Books. First published August 27, 2012. ISBN 9781501196867. Translated by Alice Menzies. Hardcover. 208 pages.