the smell of my desperation has become a stench


I took this out the window of my car as I was pulling out of my mother’s neighborhood last weekend. I had come to a full stop, and as I was rolling down the window Leta about lost her mind.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” she yelled from the backseat.

I grabbed the huge Canon camera that was sitting on the passenger seat and started to fire off a few shots. “Look at those clouds,” I answered. “Isn’t that beautiful?”

“You can’t do that, Mom!”

“What do you mean I can’t do this?”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“No,” I answered. “It’s not illegal to take photographs of the sky.”

“But you’re DRIVING,” she pointed out.

“Yes, but I’ve stopped the car. I wouldn’t be doing this if the car was moving.”

“Okay,” she said. “I just don’t you to get arrested.”

If that isn’t the sweetest sentiment. She’d have a heart attack if she could go back in time to when I was Marlo’s age and watch my father driving the black GTO, taking turns at crazy speeds as I stood upright in the front seat.

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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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