the smell of my desperation has become a stench

More than a passing resemblance

I’m sitting in the living room putting on my sneakers in preparation for our daily visit to see living people at the grocery store when Leta makes a mad crawl for her bedroom. I can hear through the monitor that she’s opened her shoe box and is throwing sandals at the wall, and then I hear a quiet shuffling. When I turn the corner of the kitchen to the door of her bedroom she is sitting next to the dirty clothes basket and has a pair of my panties on her head.

The first thing that comes out of my mouth is the only logical thing I can think of so I yell, “Stop imitating your father!”

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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