“Exactly. Statistics show kids drive popular drink sales by pushing their parents to buy. We need to find a way to bridge the gap and get the children to beg mom to buy it.”

“And the moms need to feel good about giving in,” Kate added.

I brought up a picture of the label on my screen and tapped it with my fingernail. “Packaging is huge. The recycled box is earth-friendly and colorful. It needs to compete on the shelves with Capri Sun, Honest Kids, and the endless others. We need to find a unique inroad.”

“At least it tastes good,” Layla said. She pursed her red-painted lips. “Can you believe Kool-Aid still sells a shitload? Man, I loved that stuff growing up. And what a mascot. Genius.”

“Hmm, but I don’t think we want a mascot for this product,” I said. “We need to gain children’s attention with the ad, then slam it home that there’s low sugar and no preservatives. The double hook.”

“Shock value?” Layla threw out.

I nodded. “Possible, but not too much. I think funny.”

Kate cocked her head. “Kids nowadays are immune to shock value with YouTube and video games. I agree, funny may be the way to go.”

Layla groaned and opened up her email. “I’ll get Sarah started on kids’ comedy and what generates the most sales.”

“Good, let’s start throwing everything in the pot for possible scenarios,” I said. The rush of adrenaline warmed my blood as the challenge of a new creative account settled in. This was what I lived for, the elusive hunt for the perfect hook to please a client and sell the product. It never got old.

We started brainstorming and my phone vibrated. Glancing quickly at the screen, I noticed my mother had called twice without leaving a voice mail. I held back a groan. Typical. If I didn’t pick up, she just kept calling and refused to leave a message. Soon, a text came through.

Frannie, please call me. I have an important question.

Impatience flickered. She was always calling me with endless questions, from how to work the television remote to what movie to rent at Redbox to whether I’d read the latest article about coconut oil healing all ailments. Once, she’d called half a dozen times to tell me she had a thirty percent coupon at Kohl’s and didn’t want it to expire.

She’d never really respected my work or how far I’d come, still treating me like I had a disposable job that allowed me to leave when I wanted, relax on weekends, or delegate my work when I wished. Her constant refrains echoed through my mind.

I don’t understand. Aren’t you the boss? Why can’t you take some time off?

I grabbed my phone and typed out a text. Busy now. Call you later.