the smell of my desperation has become a stench

When paperweights explode

Jon often wakes up in the morning before I do, before the alarm in the other room starts singing her ABC’s, and he’ll read blogs and news stories on his laptop to pass the time quietly. Yesterday morning when I finally woke up, my new haircut sticking straight up like Chuck’s ears when I mouth the word PIZZA, I turned over and asked him what was going on in the world. He started laughing and mentioned that he had just read a news story about a man who had blown his hand off when he tried to swat a fly with a 40 mm round that had been sitting on his desk as a paperweight. It was still early and I hadn’t yet opened both eyes, and my first thought was not 1) Why would someone use a live round as a piece of office equipment? or 2) Had he bought that live round with a gift card to Wal-Mart? My first thought was, “Oh Lord, I wonder which one of my uncles is missing a hand.”

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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