We own Love You Forever. It’s stuck in the bookcase somewhere between Oh The Thinks You Can Think and Animal Alphabet. We read it every now and then, but it always makes me feel a little funny. It’s starts out lovely but gets increasingly more bizarro with the flip of each page. I would be concerned about my mother-in-law’s mental health if she drove to our place at night with a ladder strapped to her car and then climbed up the side of the house to enter through a second-story window.  Wouldn’t you? That’s freaky enough, but if she then proceeded to…