the smell of my desperation has become a stench

Monday mornings

After lifting Leta out of the back seat and handing her her lunch box, I close the door to our car and begin to turn toward the entrance of her school. Out of the corner of my eye I see Chuck hop down into the space behind the front passenger seat to get at the bowl of Cheerios Leta brought with her for the ride, so I turn back to the window of the car, press my index finger menacingly against the glass and start screaming YOU’D BETTER NOT EAT THOSE DAMN CHEERIOS. And when I turn back to grab Leta’s hand I notice a man across the street who is trying to open the door of his car but is having trouble because he’s just witnessed an unkempt woman wearing pajamas in the middle of a parking lot, yelling at an imaginary person about breakfast cereal.

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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