Here is a young single girl from Irvington, New Jersey, leaving her parents' home for life in the big city ("No I do not believe in free love / And yes I will be home for Sunday dinners," she promises). Here is the aspiring bohemian with an expensive liberal arts education, getting coffee and taking dictation, "Hoping that someday someone will be impressed / With all I know." Here is that married woman, coping with motherhood ("The tricycles are cluttering my foyer / The Pop Tart crumbs are sprinkled on my soul") and fantasy affairs ("I could imagine cryptic conversations, clandestine martinis...and me explaining that long kisses clog my sinuses") and all-too-real family reunions ("Four aunts in pain taking pills / One cousin in analysis taking notes"). And here she is at mid-life, wondering whether a woman who used to wear a "Ban the Bomb" button can find happiness being a person "with a set of fondue forks, a fish poacher, and a wok."
Every step of the way, Viorst transforms the familiar events of daily life into poems that make you laugh with recognition. When Did I Stop Being Twenty and Other Injustices demonstrates once and for all that no one understands American women coming of age like Judith Viorst.