the smell of my desperation has become a stench

In fact, I have her edit my posts

Recently Leta spent an afternoon with my stepfather, her Grandpa Rob, at a playground where he says she was standing at the top of a slide when an older kid behind her, a boy probably around seven or eight years old, leaned down and seemed to ask her a question. Without saying a word to the boy Leta instantly whipped around, flung herself down the slide, and came running at my stepfather, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worried the older kid had said something horrible.

“That boy said, ‘What is your name, little girl?'” she answered.

Accordingly, my stepfather blinked.

“I AM NOT A LITTLE GIRL!” she yelled. “Doesn’t that boy know I can read!”

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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