I used to occasionally pick up my mother's Erma Bombeck books when I was a young teenager and read some of it -- I found it funny but didn't quite understand it.
I am now the stay-at-home mother of a three year old with the second baby on the way. What she writes about is as true in 2000 as it was in the 1970s. The environment may have changed -- not nearly as many stay-at-home moms, and the ones that are tend to be working from home, et cetera.
But there are still husbands who decide to fix the plumbing themselves, there are still kids who want cupcakes and a costume for the school play on Sunday night, and there are still women with college educations who haven't gotten to read a book other than the Dr. Seuss series since before the kids were born.
I understand now. I comprehend fully why my mother told me, when I asked as a naïve teenager what was so funny about Erma Bombeck, I'd understand later. There is no better author to make mothers feel like they're not the only person in the world that puts up with this . . . because their kids and husbands haven't noticed yet.