Frannie Mackenzie is a thirtysomething career woman who has yet to find that perfect man.  Current boyfriend Calvin, a jazz musician, provides a comforting friendship, but she’s not sure it will ever be more than that.

One day Frannie notices her breasts have grown overnight, her waistbands are tighter, and then she is horrified when she throws up all over a rack of sweaters at Gap.  Knowing what waits around the corner, Frannie pees on the little stick and finds it turning blue.

Soon she finds herself stuck in Canada, her work visa in the U.S. has expired.  A call to Calvin has them testing the waters as soon-to-be parents.  Love may not be what Frannie was expecting, but sometimes a good thing comes when you least expect it.

I found PLAYING HOUSE to be a pretty good representation of the road to motherhood.  The ups and downs of pregnancy, childbirth and then life with a new baby are right on target.  From morning-noon-night sickness (don’t try to tell me it is morning sickness when it hits at any hour) to a colicky baby that seems to want everything and nothing all at once, Patricia Pearson is right on the money.

With its candid humor and likeable characters, PLAYING HOUSE was hard to put down.  At times, it is like a slice of your own life printed in paperback form.