I See Life Through Rose`-Colored Glasses by Lisa Scottoline and Francesca Serritella

The New York Times bestselling mother daughter duo are back with more hilarious, witty, and true tales from their lives. Whether they are attempting to hike the Grand Canyon, setting up phone calls with their dogs, or learning what “adulting” means, Lisa and Francesca are guaranteed to make you laugh, cry, and appreciate the funniest moments in life. Like the perfect glass of rosé, they’re always here to help you escape from your own busy, modern life and instead, get lost in theirs.

The mother-daughter duo Lisa Scottoline and Francesca Serritella are funny, witty and quirky! I am honored to be a part of their blog tour. I have presented two excerpts from their latest book I See Life Through Rose`-Colored Glasses. The book contains short stories and memories from the mother-daughter duo. The first edited excerpt is from Heat Wavering by Lisa while the second (edited) is from Basic and Proud of It by Francesca. Each of their stories is unique, funny and totally relatable! Remember, Laughing Out Loud is mandatory!

Heat Wavering


Quirky means adorable.

I don’t know why I started hating on air-conditioning, but I always have. Even though I have central air-conditioning, I never use it. Please allow me to defend myself.

I don’t like feeling like I live inside a refrigerator. I like being the same temperature as my surroundings. And I love to throw open all the windows in the house and let in not only the breeze, but the chirping of the birds and the fresh green smell of mown grass.I know, I’m so poetic. Never mind that I’m sweating my ass off. It’s a poetic ass.

I don’t know what to tell you, but I just like fresh air, and the most I do to get cool is put on a fan. It’s a $20 Lasko fan that you can buy at Home Depot, and I own approximately eight of them. I know it’s not a classy look for the house. When I take a picture for my author page on Facebook, I make sure the fans don’t show.


For my fans. Plus I’m nostalgic about fans because they remind me of Mother Mary, and she and I used to have a famous fight, wherein she would claim that the fan should be in the window and turned blowing out, so the hot air was sucked out of the room. Which sucked. We sweated inside the house, cooling the backyard.

She also believed that you could put two fans in opposite windows and create cross-ventilation, but if you’re relying on The Flying Scottolines for physics, you’re in trouble.

So when I grew up, I decided that I would have the fans facing the way God intended, blowing air right at you. And then I got the brilliant idea that a fan didn’t need to be in a window at all, but can be sitting right on the kitchen island next to you while you eat dinner. Never mind that the fan will send tomato sauce spraying on to your T-shirt. Think of it as a sea breeze, only Italian.

Basic and Proud of It


In the summer I drink rosé. In the fall I drink Pumpkin Spice Lattes.
In the winter I wear Uggs. All year long, I wear black yoga pants to do everything but yoga. I watch every show on Bravo. I’m basic and proud of it.

I don’t remember exactly when I became aware of what “basic” meant as it refers to women. Probably whatever belated point new slang passes through black culture, then gay culture, then teen culture, before coming to rest among millennial white women.


Basic means mainstream, lame, unoriginal. It is used most frequently in reference to women, often with an expletive: Basic bitch. I can see how, among a marginalized group, “basic” as a putdown expresses an empowering reversal of power in an unjust social hierarchy. If society doesn’t accept you the way you are, screw them, they’re just basic. I love it used that way!

But as often happens, something got lost in translation when the term was appropriated by a wider audience. Now it seems the term “basic” has become a sexist dig used to undermine women and mock those things that women enjoy.

Specifically, those things we enjoy without men’s agreement or approval.

They don’t like how we look in Uggs. They don’t prefer sweet, flavored coffee. They don’t drink pink wine. (Or they do, and they have to pretend like they don’t because that’s girl stuff.) I think they’re missing out. Women have excellent taste. There’s an irony, of course, in using the notion of generic “basicness” of women against them, when women are otherwise pilloried for not fitting into the narrow parameters society lays down for us.


Everything about women is more unique than society would like us to be. We’re too many different shapes and sizes, our hair too many different textures, our opinions too loud and too varied, our orgasms too complicated.

Why should we apologize for our preferences? If many women, in all our glorious variations, agree that something is pretty great, maybe it is.

Thank you St.Martin’s Press, Lisa Scottoline and Francesca Serritella for this wonderful opportunity I really enjoyed reading your book.

For those who want to have a peek at the review of this book, please click here.

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