THIS BOOK IS WRITTEN ESPECIALLY FOR KEVIN LASTNAME WITH HELP FROM GRAMMA AND GRANDDAD.
KEVIN WAS PREPARED FOR ANY MYSTERY WITH HIS SUPER-DUPER DETECTIVE KIT. BUT FIRST HE HAD TO FIND ONE!
KEVIN FED HIS PET CAT, SANDI, EARLY ONE MORNING, AND THEN BEGAN SEARCHING FOR CLUES.
KEVIN HUNTED AROUND HIS BACKYARD AT MAIN STREET, PEERING THROUGH HIS SPECIAL MAGNIFYING GLASS. AS HE LOOKED CLOSELY AT SOME LARGE STRAWBERRIES, HE NOTICED THAT ONE OF THE STRAWBERRIES WAS CRYING.
"WHAT'S WRONG, MISS STRAWBERRY?" KEVIN ASKED.
Thoughts: Books like this piss me off. My asshole brother was looking for mystery for about five minutes before he stumbled upon something suspicious. BULLSHIT. Stories like this mislead impressionable young children into believing that adventure will just fucking fall into their lap out of nowhere. That never ever happens. I'm especially disturbed by the number of children's book out there that involve solving mysteries. There are even whole series of books such as Nancy Drew, Encyclopedia Brown, and The Three Investigators where douchebag kids solve mysteries and fight crime. My friends and I went through a phase were tried to solve mysteries and it was a fucking waste of time. As it turns out, not a whole lot of mysterious things happen in the suburbs. After some unsuccessful attempts to solve mediocre puzzles such as The Mystery of What Mr. Garafano Said At The Block Party That Was So Damn Funny and The Mystery of the Sticky White Balloons in the Woods Behind The Park, we gave up. We searched with great enthusiasm, but not once did we find a fucking cave with stolen jewels in it. Hell, we never even found a cave. If there hadn't been so many goddam books about solving mysteries, we probably would have just sat around playing Bubble Bobble or Jackal, and that would have been infinitely better than finding used condoms in the forest.
It always bugged me that we had to call my mom's parents were Gramma & Granddad when Grandma & Granddad is a much more natural pairing. Guess how many times I had to rewrite and readdress thank you notes because I spelled Gramma wrong. IT WAS A LOT.
For a so-called personalized book, this story is fairly inaccurate. First of all, our cat's name was Sandy not Sandi. Secondly, we never had a fucking strawberry patch in our backyard. Speaking of which, how come only *one* of the strawberries has a face? Something's not right. I bet it's an evil shapeshifter... KEVIN, IT'S EVIL! DON'T TOUCH IT! Well, maybe not. Let's see what happens next...