An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation


Last night Jon was in a bit of a fender bender on the freeway wherein he rear-ended this other car that rear-ended another car and now my little black Honda looks like a raccoon that fell from a tree and landed flat on its face. Thank God Jon is okay, and thank God I had bought cookie dough earlier in the day that had chocolate chips and caramel all mixed in. Jon loves caramel and I love anything that can be shoved into my mouth and digested.

So we celebrated Jon’s health with a huge plate of caramel chocolate chip cookies, and they oozed and melted and were SO FUCKING GOOD. And as I was taking the leftovers (very few of them) from the living room to the kitchen I dropped one on the coffee table, and faster than I could realize that one had actually fallen from the plate a furry beast LEPT UPON THE SACRAMENT FOODSTUFFS and consumed the cookie in one giant snarf. A whole cookie.

Normally I would have been upset, and I would have put another cookie on the table and hit it in front of the perpetrator and shouted, “NO! NO! NO!” but that would have been insane, me hitting a cookie to prove a point, so I just ate it. Because last night my family was intact. That, and I knew Jon would be the one to take Chuck out this morning for his caramel cookie poop.

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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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