Mom never wanted her son Dave to become a policeman. "For all the brains it takes, believe me, you might as well be in business with your uncles." Besides, "All those gangsters and dope fiends and bookies and hatchet murderers and other such goniffs; isn't it possible you could get hurt some day?" It's not difficult to solve crimes, Mom explains—and it's certainly not for her.
Dave and his very superior, Wellesley-educated wife, Shirley, have dinner with Mom in the Bronx every Friday evening. Between the chicken soup and the schnecken, Dave talks about his current cases. Mom is not interested in what she describes as sophie-ological analysis and psycho-annihilating the suspects, but her long experience in dealing with scheming butchers, nosey neighbors, and eccentric relatives leads her to a logical solution to all Dave's mysteries. "By yourself, you should've guessed it," Mom says, but it takes Mom's insight into personality to unravel the crime.
Thirty years ago, Ellery Queen wrote that it was "sure as death and 'tectives" that a collection of Mom short stories would appear. Witty, wise, and filled with warmth, the Mom tales are some of the finest armchair detective stories ever written.
