Essays

43

My mama was notorious for handing out warnings. She had a warning about everything---from dealing with men to dealing with menopause.

Did your mama ever advise you against something but you went ahead and did it anyway? How many times did she end up being right? 

Did you fail to listen to your mama's advice because you didn't think she knew what she was talking about?

 Did you ever, ever in your life think you knew more than she did?

 Did you ever set out to prove her wrong?

Did you ever live to regret not listening to your mama's warnings?

 Did you ever get mad at her because you didn't like what she was trying to tell you?

If you've answered YES to at least two of the questions above, you'll definitely want to purchase a copy of the brand new "Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This" ebook.  This collection of award winning essays includes reflections of my own mama's warnings.  Listen to an excerpt:


http://www.thebabyboomerdiva.com/mama_said_there_be_days_like_this.htm

This is the kind of book you’ll want to share during at family gatherings and it’ll definitely make you reminisce on your own mother’s warnings.  Then ask yourself, just how many of those warnings did you end up having to learn the hard way?

For the next 24 hours, there is a special discounted price of $3.95.  Price will increase on July 2, the date of the official ebook release.
 
 

Excerpt
Momma said, don't ask if you don't want to know the answer. But I did want to know, and I wanted him to tell me.

"Why don't we go upstairs?" I snuggled closer to my husband of fifteen years. Close enough that he could smell the French perfume he'd given me on Valentine's Day.

He glanced up from the television long enough to give me one of those here-we-go-again looks. "I'm watching this show."

"The kids are gone for the night. We could have our own private show." I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

"Just watch this with me." He slid into the couch, eliminating all physical contact between us.

The lump in my throat stuck like cold oatmeal. For two weeks I had tried seducing the man who used to jump me when he walked through the door.

"Don't you love me anymore?" I held my breath.

"I love you." An exasperated sigh punctuated the sentence.

I swallowed hard. "Why aren't we making love?"

He turned the television up. The time had come, I had to know. I snatched the remote and turned off the television....