CyberMummy 2011, the dark side

Well, CyberMummy 2011 was - of course - a fantastic occasion, and I loved it to bits. I'm sure there are a multitude of posts out there, if you want to read about the quality speakers, and the opportunities for digging into areas of interest. Or the uncovering of the many ways in which bloggers are moving cyber life forward, and the fun of being part of that whole movement. Or the excitement of meeting other bloggers, putting faces to names, being amongst old friends and new. Or the really rather delicious sausage casserole with a mashed potato topping. But you're not going to read about those things here. No. I'm going to confess to you that CyberMummy 2011 was, for me, the first step on what might become a downward spiral into a life of crime.

I committed a theft. I did. You're surprised, aren't you? You're thinking "that Iota... she seemed like a nice lady, who'd have thought it?" Alas. I fear it's downhill all the way from here. I can see you all, in the public gallery in the courtroom, as the judge pronounces the sentence, tutting sadly, and shaking your heads, more in sorrow than in anger. Then you'll go home, and tell your friends and neighbours "I was there, where it all started, back in 2011... at a conference, it was... such a shame..."

I was in the sponsors room. I was looking for a cup of tea. Oh, it started innocently enough. A cup of tea. That's all I wanted. But then there was all this STUFF... all this FREE STUFF. And nice smiley people wanting to talk to you, and give you leaflets, and tell you about their FREE STUFF. If you read my post on the CyberMummy blog, you'll know that I've decided to start earning a bit of money from my blog, and maybe some material goods. So I was trying to be open to any opportunities that came my way. That's when I saw the Crocs stand. By the stand, there were baskets full of Crocs, and people were rubbling through them. And the couple of bloggers I was with started asking each other "are those free Crocs?", and I thought "ooh, I've never owned a pair of Crocs". So then I got into the throng of people who were waiting to chat to the nice Crocs people, and I was going to ask if I could take a pair of Crocs, and try them, and write a review about them, and feeling like I was on the brink of venturing successfully into this commercial blogging lark that up till now I've deliberately distanced myself from. But the crowd wasn't moving, and the nice Crocs people were a bit overwhelmed, and I couldn't get through all the other bloggers to speak to anyone, and then the blogger I was with handed me a pair of bright yellow Crocs, size 1, and said "here, would these be the right size for any of yours?", and then I started feeling just a little bit smug for knowing 7-yo's UK shoe size as well as her US one, which just happens to be a size 1, and I pictured her little excited face as I would hand her the shoes. There was a bit of kerfuffling, as still no-one seemed to know what the baskets of Crocs were for, but I said to another blogger I was with "they wouldn't have brought them here, just to take them back again, would they? They must have wanted people to help themselves, mustn't they?", and she replied "oh, stick 'em in your bag, let's go". It wasn't my fault, you see. I was led astray by people who, quite frankly, should have known better. Mentioning no names, but you know who you are.

So there it is, M'Lud. I was a victim of circumstances. And it was all for my children. My little daughter. She was 7. She needed shoes. I did it for her. And I was thinking I could write a review for Crocs. That's how it works, isn't it? You get a freebie, you write a review. Yes, I must confess that someone did mention to me later on in the day that the Crocs in the baskets were samples for people to look at, but that's all I've done. Looked at them. In the comfort of my own home.

The review? Oh. Well, M'Lud, you see what happened was that I gave the Crocs, the bright sunshiney yellow Crocs, to my young child. Her face shone with gratitude as she softly whispered "oh Mummy, not a second helping of gruel AND new shoes!". Then she tried them on, and was very insistent that actually her feet were a size-1-but-very-nearly-a-size-2 and that her toes were pushing right up at the end in a most uncomfortable way. She said "the thing is, Mummy, I don't like Crocs. They're not really my style". So I couldn't review them. But I WOULD have done. Honest.

And that's how it all started. My first step on the slippery slope, M'Lud. Don't blame me. Blame CyberMummy.

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