This is the least cynical book Keret has written.  It's at times sad or hopeful but ultimately very loving as it details kerets life and relationship with the various people within it (plus alot of cab drivers). It pulls back the curtain a bit on one of israels most internationally recognized authors, as he through a series of short stories, uncovers his feelings towards being a father, a son, a husband, a brother, a jew, and most importantly an israeli. The book doesn't have a clear point, a crescendo  to build to or a strong conclusion delivered neatly to carry around after the last page is turned, and for a non- fiction story it really shouldn't.  instead reading the book feels lik  meandering through the garden with a funny strange getting snippets of the life they lived and are still living and all the things they are trying to learn from it. 

favorite line:

" In the nine years we've been living together, we've gotten married dozens of times in all sorts of ceremonies that we made up ourselves: with a  kiss on the nose at a fish restaurant in Jaffa, exchanging hugs in a dilapidated hotel in Warsaw, skinny-dipping on the beach in Haifa, or even sharing a Kinder egg on a train from Amsterdam to Berlin. Except that none of these ceremonies is recognized unfortunately by the rabbis or the state."