I hung up the phone with my publisher at Annick yesterday and had this conversation with my four-year-old daughter:
Daughter: Who was that?
Tanya: That was Auntie Colleen. She’s like my boss at the publishing company.
Daughter: But your real boss is Daddy at home, right?
I would have tried to answer her, but I’d already slipped into a straightjacket and sent myself to the psych ward.