the smell of my desperation has become a stench

Soon to be written out of the will

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?

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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