The first thing to do when reading a book like "Babyhood" by Paul Reiser is to find out who actually wrote it. Paul Reiser did not write it, because he is a millionaire TV actor and he doesn't have to write a book in order to write a book. Celebrities have been refraining from writing their own books for over half a century. There's nothing shameful about it or, if there is, we've all gotten over it. Sometimes, the actual author's name appears on the cover, usually "as told to" or "with," but not often. More frequently, the actual author is mentioned as though he or she had just been hanging around the house during the time when the celebrity was bent over his word processing device -- in the case of "Babyhood," like this: "A huge thank you to my friend Brad 'Zippy' Kesden, whose smart, funny brains and invaluable input helped me make this book a lot better than I was planning to." And then a line space, letting you know that Zippy Kesden is the sole author and the next person mentioned really is a personal assistant. Paul Reiser is an engaging fellow and probably a smart one, so it seems likely that he read the book that he wrote. This is not mandatory; indeed, basketball player Charles Barkley once complained that he was misquoted in his autobiography. The second thing to do is examine the cover and see if you can detect the retouching. I have stared at Paul Reiser on television for (let's see) roughly eight hours of my life (I'm figuring 36 22-minute segments of "Mad About You" viewed, with two-thirds of that time spent staring at Helen Hunt), so I know his face pretty well. The miracle of Photoshop has made his cheeks smoother, his hairline cleaner, his brow less furrowed, his chin unscarred and the chest hair peeping out from the collar of his T-shirt all but invisible. (You can see it if you really stare, but that would be unnecessary. I have done that work for you. That's what I'm here for.) Also, you should speculate on whether the baby he's holding on the cover is stuffed. There is no way of knowing for sure, but it makes an interesting game over dinner. "Stuffed or not?" you can ask your guests, passing the book around. The third thing to do is read the book. This is not an unenjoyable experience. The book purports to be about Paul and his actual wife, who is never named in the book, and their experience having their first child. However, since the book came out at exactly the moment that the character Paul Reiser plays on "Mad About You" had a baby with his TV wife Helen Hunt, it seems probable that this is, as they say in lit crit, a conceit. Reiser (the character in the book by Reiser, alias Kesden) talks like Paul Buchman, the character that Paul Reiser plays on "Mad About You." Nameless, the real life wife of Paul Reiser, talks like Jamie Buchman, the TV character. One wonders what her standing would be if she claimed to have been misquoted. It seems probable that Zippy Kesden has seen or even written more than a few episodes of "Mad About You." Indeed, this book may be a compilation of unfilmed scripts for "Mad About You," brought to you uncluttered by commercial announcements in this portable form. As in:

"You okay?" "Mm-hmm." "You sure?" She said, "Ask me what I did from two-thirty to now." "Okay. What?" "Ate a banana and cried."

OK. That was a sentence I had literally never heard. To my knowledge, eating a banana and crying is something you would do only if you were, say, auditioning for a part in a dramatic monkey movie.

I didn't know exactly what to say. "Why are you crying?" "I don't know." "You want to talk?" "No." A few moments of silence. "Do you want me to get you anything?" "No, I'm so nauseous." "How many bananas did you have?" "Eight."

And then the studio audience goes nuts. We readers can hear it all in our head, if we are the kind of readers who are likely to buy this book, that is, people who enjoy watching "Mad About You." It's like having a television set that doesn't make any noise and keeps playing the same show over and over again. It's a pretty good show, actually. Lots about vomiting and diapers and tiny testicles that father steps in to help wash. If you want TV in book form, this is the book for you. I just don't want any of those people who keep nattering on about what great shape the book business is in because more people are buying more books all the time to include the fabulous success of "Babyhood" in their calculations, because "Babyhood" is really a clever souvenir, which is an OK thing but it's not exactly a book. If you know what I mean.