Cheaper by the Dozen is a true gem. Not the Steve Martin movie. That is a blasphemy. The book, well, the book is hillarious. Like, laugh-out-loud-on-the-bus hillarious.
It is the very funny and often moving story of how the dozen Gilbreth children were raised by their father Frank, a brilliant efficiency expert and utterly charming wiseacre, and mother, Lililth, a firm but gentle psychologist, as written by Frank Jr. and (darling) Ernestine. The story takes place during the turn of the century and ends sometime in the 1920s. Here are a couple of quotes:
Mother was a Phi Beta Kappa and a psychology graduate of the University of California. In those days women who were scholars were viewed with some suspicion. When Mother and Dad were married the Oakland paper said:
“Although a graduate of the University of California, the bride is nonetheless an extremely attractive young woman.”
….
The biggest problem, on the boat and in the car, was Martha’s two canaries, which she had won for making the best recitation in Sunday school. All of us, except Dad, were fond of them. Dad called one of them Shut Up and the other You Heard Me. He said they smelled so much they ruined his whole trip, and were the only creatures on earth with voices louder than his children.
….
(When Frank Jr. is accidentally left behind during a road trip at the New London restaurant) We had stopped in the New London restaurant for lunch, and it had seemed a respectable enough place. It was night time when we returned, however, and the place was garish in colored lights. Dad left us in the car and entered. After the drive in the dark, his eyes were squinted in the bright lights, and he couldn’t see very well.
A pretty young lady, looking for business, was drinking a highball in the second booth. Dad peered in, flustered.
“Hello Pops,” she said, “Don’t be bashful. Are you looking for a naughty little girl?”
Dad was caught off guard. “Goodness no,” he stammered, with all of his ordinary poise shattered, “I’m looking for a naughty little boy.”
“Whoops dearie,” she said, “Pardon me.”
….
This book is a classic, a real treasure, and if you haven’t yet read it, your local library is sure to have a copy. Do yourself a favor and see if those Mongolians really do come cheaper by the dozen.
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