Sunday afternoon we had lunch with my mother. It’s an arrangement we have worked out: she feeds us free food, she gets to see Leta. I would let my mother see Leta regardless of whether or not food was involved, but come on. FREE FOOD. I will totally use my child as leverage.
Over pork roast and baked potatoes we talked about work and bosses and Avon trade secrets. She made me promise that I wouldn’t reveal those secrets here, and of course I obliged, but on the way out the door I teased her, “I can’t wait to tell my readers about what’s going to go down with Avon.”
I could see the terror in her face, and she quickly admonished, “You better not ever mention me or Avon on that website of yours.”
Um, yeah. Um. Hmmmmmmmm: Oops?
