the smell of my desperation has become a stench

He likes the blueberry ones, with icing

Yesterday morning I left a portion of my unfinished pop tart sitting on the kitchen counter for a few hours. I realized at about noon that Chuck had been sitting on the kitchen floor directly beneath that piece of pop tart for over FOUR HOURS, waiting, waiting, waiting. We promised it would never happen, but we have created a little begging shithead.

(Jon is reading this right now and he is thinking, “WOMAN. YOU are the one who gives him pizza. Not me.”)

Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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