An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

Signs of life

We’re driving to school when I see a giant yellow bush blooming in the neighbor’s yard.

“Leta,” I say. “Look! Isn’t that beautiful?”

“Oh, wow,” she answers. “That’s so yellow. What is that?”

“It’s called forsythia. It’s my favorite thing that blooms this time of year.”

“For-what?”

“Forsythia. Hey, Marlo, can you say forsythia?”

Marlo grunts from her carseat.

“Please,” I beg. “FORSYTHIA. Can you say it?”

“NO!” she screams.

“Oh, come on. Just once. Just one time. Forsythia.”

“I WILL NOT STHAY NO MORE WORDSTH,” she announces.

“I’ll give you something sweet.”

“I DO NOT WANT STHOMETHING STHWEET.”

This is too easy.

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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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