As usual, Jackson draws you in expecting one thing, spins you around and presents you another.
There are dishes and dirty laundry, but also magic and intrigue.
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Furniture refuses to stay put, a flower arrangement is delivered, apparently from Sally’s imaginary friend, and you can never quite get your bearings on who is telling the truth and what is real.
Other times, it is a humor that will have you in stitches—like when Stanley and Shax, the family’s cat, attempt (and fail) to capture a bat flying around the living room.
On the surface, Jackson chuckles over an inept husband, a car that won’t start, and missing sneakers.
In between the lines you’ll notice a searing commentary on the life of a “housewife” when women shouldered most (read: all) of the child-rearing and housekeeping duties.
They deal with the mundane issues of daily living—picky eaters, car repairs, and bank visits.
While undeniably amusing, they seem lighthearted, even trivial.