What Happens when the Elf reports MOM’S bad behavior?

Ellington, Elf on the Shelf, turns his tattle-tale focus on MOM this Christmas -- and you won't BELIEVE what he's tellin' Santa!  #funny #sexy #Christmas @SoThenStories

So then…I wake up at 3 am to the sound of click-clacking. I pop downstairs, peer round the corner, and see two tiny red felt feet scurry out of sight. My laptop screen is glowing, so I cross the room, lean in…and what to my wondering eyes should appear – but EMAILS from Ellington, our Elf on the Shelf, to SANTA!

Hey Santa,
Ellington the Elf here, reporting from the Perdu household! My vertigo’s still acting up, so rather than fly back and forth to the North Pole, I’ll just email you my reports!

Day 1
So excited to meet my new family, Darcy (Mom) and David (Dad) and their darling kids, Tucker, age 8, and Chloe, age 5. I’ll be on the lookout for any naughty or nice behavior to report back to you!

Day 2
Look, Santa, I don’t want to tell you your business, but the naughty ones in this house are NOT the kids. Oh sure, they bicker and whine a bit, with the occasional fib – but the one I REALLY need to keep an eye on is the Mom!

When she made breakfast this morning, the Dad asked, “Are these real eggs and bacon?” “Of course,” she replied. Nope. Egg Beaters and Turkey Bacon. He asked for regular coffee and she snuck in Decaf. For dinner, she assured the kids she served “real” hamburgers. Nope. Veggie Burgers. So she’s a liar. Maybe for a good cause – but still – a liar.

Day 3
When the class mom called for volunteers to collate papers at school today, Darcy, the Mom, said she couldn’t because she had a “doctor’s appointment.”

Then she watched the Dr. Oz show on the DVR. That is NOT an appointment.

Day 4
She straight up lied to the kids today on the way home from school. There’s no way Chuck E Cheese, Toys R Us, AND Game Stop are ALL closed for renovations.

Plus she gossiped at great length with her friend about Mrs. Kobar, one of Chloe’s teachers who’s allegedly very short-tempered and cancels recess when the kids are rowdy.

Day 5
While watching TV tonight she passed gas with such a foul stench, I had to gasp for air. She blamed the dog.

They do not even HAVE a dog.

Day 6
She tells the kids never to swear, but when she was alone on the freeway today, she let loose a string of expletives that would make a sailor blush. Honestly, Santa, I cannot even TYPE them for fear my hands will go straight to hell. Omigod, now she has ME swearing! She’s corrupting me, Santa!

Day 7
The Mom does do lots of nice stuff with the kids. She helps with homework, makes crafts with them, and plays silly games.

But tonight when she was baking cookies with Chloe for teacher gifts, I noticed she set aside all the misshapen, over-cooked ones for Mrs. Kobar.

Day 8
She’s not terribly organized. Before bedtime tonight, when Chloe suggested pulling out her old 1,001 Deluxe Bead Craft Kit and Tucker requested his 99 Paints & Goop Set, the Mom said she couldn’t find them in the toy closet. I suspect foul play.

Day 9
The neighborhood association called today for volunteers to deliver ballots door-to-door, but she said she had a “doctor’s appointment.”

Yep, you guessed – Dr. Phil on DVR. And the irony? The episode was “Nasty Neighbors” about residents who sue, sully, or sex each other up! It was scandalous and provocative! Honestly, after the third time, I could hardly watch it anymore.

Day 10
While rummaging in the closet for wrapping paper, she found the fancy toiletry bag-shaving kit she bought her husband last Christmas. It had never been used! She uttered some profanity and was about to bring it downstairs to confront him – but then she smiled, dusted it off, and wrapped it to give him THIS year!

Day 11
A new low. She stole quarters from Tucker’s piggy bank for the parking meter in front of the manicure place.

(And that polish is too pink for her skin tone. I’m just saying.)

Day 12
Possible redemption? She donated 3 bags of items to Goodwill today!

But guess what’s in the first bag? Yep! Chloe’s 1,001 Bead Craft Kit and Tucker’s 99 Paints & Goop Set!

Day 13
When her husband asked about his DVR recordings, she innocently said, “Oh, I don’t know how your golf tournaments got deleted.”

I know how, Santa. And I know WHO. Her head’s tilting accusingly toward the kids, but we all know who’s deleting shows to make room for Scandal and Outlander!

Day 14
She told a telemarketer she couldn’t talk on the phone because she had to go walk the dog. Still no dog, Santa.  NO DOG.

She works from home so she has lots of conference calls. The other people on the line think she’s studying the spreadsheets when she’s saying “yes, good point” and “mm-hmm” but she’s really reading Facebook updates!

Day 15
When her family mentioned they’re running out of clean clothes, she said she’d planned to do laundry last night but got sidetracked by other “important things.” I’m no detective, Santa, but that empty bottle of red wine might be a clue.

Day 16
Whenever her husband asks what she wants for Christmas, she smiles and says she has everything she needs: a loving family and a lovely home; she just wants everyone to have a happy, healthy holiday. But then she turns up the volume on all the jewelry commercials – and leaves catalogs lying around, open to pages showing beautiful tennis bracelets. She does not even PLAY tennis, Santa!

Day 17
When Tucker yelled downstairs that he’d accidentally knocked over all his Legos for the 4th time today, she hid in the pantry eating Oreos until her husband went up to clean up the mess. She was giggling, Santa. GIGGLING!

Day 18
Her friend tried to make her join her for a Zumba class, but she said she had a “doctor’s appointment.”

She watched GREY’S ANATOMY on NETFLIX. Oh come on! She’s not even trying anymore. Those aren’t even REAL doctors! Have you no shame, woman?

Day 19
Darcy called the relatives today about Christmas Eve dinner at her house. She “confided” in Aunt Bernice that Darcy’s sister Della really doesn’t care for Aunt Bernice’s jello fruit salad and could she please bring Brown Sugar Sweet Potatoes instead.

Then she “confided” in Auntie Fran that Della made some uncomplimentary remarks about Auntie Fran’s zucchini bread loaf, so could she please bring Brown Sugar Sweet Potatoes instead. Della said no such things!

Day 20
The kids rarely fight, but tonight I think the Mom and Dad got into a huge fight after drinking some after-dinner wine! They went right to their bedroom and locked the door – played music to cover the sounds, I guess, but I could hear them wrestling and moaning and exclaiming, “Oh God, Oh God!” I think they even knocked over a lamp!

Day 21
The gift she brought for today’s Book Club Secret Santa exchange looks suspiciously like the one she received at last week’s Neighborhood Secret Santa exchange! Regifting alert!

Day 22
When the kids asked for dessert, she swore there was no ice cream left. As soon as the kids were asleep, she opened a bag of frozen peas that concealed a pint of Ben & Jerry’s!

Day 23
She sang lots of Christmas Carols with the kids while seeing the lights on Candy Cane Lane tonight. But after 9 renditions of “Let It Go,” she claimed she couldn’t remember the words anymore. How does THAT happen?

Day 24
About 18 relatives came to Christmas Eve dinner at the Perdu house. I’m actually impressed — she’s been cooking all day; the house is decorated; the gifts are wrapped.

Aunt Bernice and Auntie Fran gave a bewildered Della the stink eye. Darcy just smiled sweetly and shoveled in some more Brown Sugar Sweet Potatoes.

At the Christmas Eve dinner, she loudly let one rip and exclaimed, “Tucker!” Tucker protested his innocence while the adults shook their heads and the kids giggled. Tucker laughed too — but Santa, you and I both know who’s passin’ Brown-Sugar-scented gas tonight!

After dinner when it was time for clean-up, she told her husband she had “digestion difficulties” and was going to use the upstairs bathroom for privacy.

But while the relatives were cleaning the kitchen downstairs, she went upstairs to her bedroom instead! She locked the door, pulled out some book about colors – something about shades of grey? – and reached for some kind of strange magic wand — and you’re NOT gonna BELIEVE where she PUT the–

OH NO, she saw me! I’ve got to skedaddle lickety-split. More later, Santa!

–Ellington the Elf

I narrow my eyes. That little son-of-a…

With arched brow, and malice on my mind, I coaxingly call out, “Oh, Ellington? Little Elfie, where are youuu?”

–Darcy Perdu

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All posts on So Then Stories are true, with only the names changed – except THIS post which is completely fiction. I mean, come on, y’all – you know I never pass wind! Ne-vah!

(If Elf on the Shelf reports YOUR naughty behavior to Santa, what would the report say?)

Oh, SOMEONE’S bein’ SASSY!

So then…I figure I’d best share some o’ my Memes so you can see some of the funny stuff goin’ on over on my So Then Stories Facebook page (which you should totally follow!)

Tools Used When My Teen & I Disagree

You know that funny character in the movie...?

 

Wait - I'm in the Russian Bride Club?

 

For a Healthy (or FUN) Halloween...?

 

Parenting for the WIN!

 

Oh your belly can only support a ring?

 

Wanna make your son speechless?

And as you know — there’s a CAKE for that!
AND a PARADE!

— Darcy Perdu

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(Go ahead – make my day!  Tell me your favorite!)

Sometimes, Only My Kids Really “Get” Me

Sometimes Only My Kids Get Me FINAL
So then…we cozy up to the teppanyaki table to celebrate Chloe’s 16th birthday — for our family dinner with her brother Tucker (18), her dad David, and me.

And since these Japanese restaurants pair you with other diners at the communal tables, we squeeze in next to a family of four also celebrating a birthday.

We quickly make friends with them, of course – ‘cause we’re charming like that.

Our tableside chef is slicing and dicing veggies – while shrimp, beef, chicken and fried rice are sizzling all across the hot grill – creating the most tantalizing aromas!

It’s such an impressive array of colors and scents, I say, “I wish I had one of these teppanyaki tables in my kitchen!  It’d be so cool to chop and grill all these delicious foods at home!”

My family members raise skeptical eyebrows.

“Mom, you’re not exactly known for your cooking,” says Chloe.

(She’s right.)

“Well, maybe I could get a job here – and they’d train me how to cook like this!” I say.

“I’m not sure you can be trusted with all those sharp knives, Mom,” says Tucker.  “You’d probably cut your hand off!”

We all laugh.

I say, “Yeah, but if I could still cook after something like that—”

My son brightens and says, “Hey, yeah, that could be what you’re known for—”

“Exactly,” I say.  “That could be my hook!”

Pause.

Then we suddenly realize my unintended pun – “that could be my hook” – like my claim to fameand like my missing hand would be an actual hook

My kids and I BUST UP LAUGHING.

David and the other family just stare us.

Which makes us laugh MORE.

WE CANNOT STOP LAUGHING.

“That could be my hook.”

“My HOOK!”  Bwahahaha!

Oh my God.

We’re snickering over that for hours.

Much to the dismay of everyone around us.

Sigh.  Sometimes only my kids get me.

— Darcy Perdu

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(Wouldn’t you love a teppanyaki grill table in YOUR house? And wouldn’t YOU laugh at the accidental hook joke? Wouldn’t you, seriously now!?)

Would You Like Some Vagina…Cake?

So then…we’re celebrating my daughter Chloe’s 16th birthday today — but she bought ME a cake!

Before our celebration plans tonight, she and her old brother Tucker snuck off to the store so she could order this cake for me:

Vagina Cake (RAW)

I die laughing.

I love Chloe’s sense of humor!

And I can only imagine the baker’s expression as he was asked to write:

“Thanks for pushing me out your Vagina.”

First of all, what choice did I have?  I certainly couldn’t keep her in there!

And second of all, why did the baker capitalize “Vagina?”

Does he think that’s someone’s name?  (I guess it could be a car’s name – like, “Thanks for pushing me out your Toyota before the train hit us.”)

Either way, those rapscallion kids of mine are snickering up a storm as they hand me the cake.  And I must say – it is delicious.

Several visitors have been in and out of the house today – and yes, we ask everyone who arrives:

“Would you like some vagina…

cake?”

Horrified looks quickly give way to laughter when they see the cake.

But it does raise an interesting point.

Why AREN’T we sending cakes and gifts to our moms on our birthdays?  After all, it’s the anniversary of the day they spent hours in agonizing labor to grant us life!

So am I suggesting that my kids should give me cakes and gifts on Mother’s Day…AND on my birthday…AND on their birthdays?

Why, yes – yes, I am.

Who’s with me?

— Darcy Perdu

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(Do you agree we moms should get cards and gifts on our KIDS’ birthdays too? What goofy shenanigans do YOUR kids get up to?)

What Diabolical Bedevilment Is This Kid Up To NOW?

What Diabolical Plan Is My Kid Plotting Now? #funny #alarming @SoThenStories.com

So then…my teen son Tucker asks me to print a strange attachment. I’m busy on the computer so I just glance at it briefly, but it looks to be an IRS penalty letter and a flight itinerary to New York.

I snort because surely the IRS can’t be hounding my son to pay income taxes for a job – since HE DOESN’T HAVE ONE. (not that I’m bitter and resentful about that at all – not that I sweated my balls off working at Grandell’s Amusement Park in Louisiana’s hot humid heat when I was a teen – not that I think he should fill out a few more applications to be gainfully employed for the summer – cough cough)

So I print the attachment and go on about my business in my home office.

Tucker continues his flurry of activities throughout the house, occasionally calling out a question.

I try not to be a helicopter parent, but after awhile, I wonder if I should be concerned by his inquiries over the past few hours:

“Do we have a Polaroid camera for an instant picture?”

“Can you print out a W2 form please?”

“Where’s my passport?”

“Do we have any balloons?”

“Where’s the duct tape?”

What the hell?

Is he running away from home?

Is he an international fugitive?

Is he taking HOSTAGES?

Am I one of the hostages?

Just now he said, “Don’t come in the pantry, please.”

Trust me, buddy, I won’t.

I continue my phone calls and work emails, while posting some of the above questions on Facebook to see what my pals think. Comments range from:

“LMAO”

to

“I’d go in the pantry if I were you”

to

“Are you alive? Should we call the police?”

I figure I’d better check out what nefarious activities he’s up to, so I pop in his bedroom and find this:

You're Snorting What with My WHAT? #funny @SoThenStories.com

Tucker’s not there – just a bunch of foreign currency and his passport.

What country accepts euros AND pesos AND quetzals?

Hmm, maybe I SHOULD go see what’s in the pantry.

As I enter the kitchen, I see this:

You're Snorting What with My WHAT? #funny @SoThenStories.com

I die laughing because it appears to be the cocaine serving for a Sweet Suburban Housewife!

Please note the cocaine lines are cut with a BARNES & NOBLE GIFT CARD!

(not a Gold Am Ex card – a bookstore gift card!)

Apparently the cocaine’ll be snorted with a rolled-up BED, BATH & BEYOND COUPON!

(not a hundred dollar bill – a linen store coupon!)

And the baggie containing the cocaine is helpfully labelled, “Cocaine. Keep until June 2016”

That’s exactly how I label all my dry goods!

But I promise you, THIS IS NOT MY COCAINE!

First of all, I’d never tamper with a Bed, Bath & Beyond 20% Off Coupon – those things are like GOLD to me!

Second of all, IS there an expiration date for cocaine?

Third of all, I don’t do cocaine!

I do Ben & Jerry’s.

(which is FAR superior to cocaine)

So clearly, this little scene is my son’s handiwork.

And yes, the “cocaine” is flour.

But it’s oddly gratifying to know that even if my son were the ring leader of an international drug cartel, he’d be organized enough to LABEL his drugs and provide an EXPIRATION date.

I imagine that’d be quite impressive – and a real time-saver – when the cops bust him and take the drugs into evidence.

The last thing you want is a lab tech to stick his pinky in the powder and declare with a grimace, “Tsk, this cocaine’s gone bad” – or for the British cop to shout “Oi! Sarge, come sample da heroin – seems a bit off, don’t it?”

Finally I locate my fugitive – caught red-handed with scissors and a fake W2 form.

“Whatcha workin’ on there, buddy? Somethin’ for your kitchen cocaine?”

He laughs.

“Yes!” he exclaims. “It’s so funny! I’m working on a SnapChat story about a guy whose IRS fines are so huge, he has to turn to a life of crime to pay the government!”

And sure enough, a few moments later, he shows me his SnapChat photos and text which are pretty frikkin’ hilarious!

Of course, it seems a little implausible that someone would obscenely violate drug laws in order to comply with an income tax law – but hey, who am I to question the motivation of the lead character in a fictional SnapChat story?

I’m a mother — and I’m duty-bound to support my son in all his creative endeavors — even if a Bed, Bath & Beyond coupon is sacrificed in the process.

(stifles a sob)

— Darcy Perdu

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(Any creative mini-filmmakers or clever storytellers out there? How about kids who ask questions so bizarre, you’re almost afraid to find out why they want to know? DO you agree Ben & Jerry’s is far superior to cocaine?)

Signs Your Daughter MIGHT Have Borrowed YOUR Shower…

So then…I pop into my bathroom, when I see something that makes me suspect that my teen Chloe MIGHT have borrowed MY shower to shave her legs.

I spy this upon the shower wall:

Signs Your Kid MIGHT Have Borrowed Your Shower #funny @SoThenStories.com

1st Thought:

Aww, how sweet.

2nd Thought:

Hey, that’s a lot of shaving lotion.

Then I see this written underneath:

Signs Your Kid MIGHT Have Borrowed Your Shower #funny #kids @SoThenStories.com

Ha!

When I see her later, I give her a hug and say:

Me: “I loved my surprise message in the shower today! That was hilarious!”

Chloe, grinning: “Well, I do love you.”

Me: “Why didn’t you finish the second sentence?”

Chloe: “The one that says ‘Sorry for wasting?’”

Me: “Yeah, why didn’t you write ‘Sorry for wasting shaving lotion?’”

Chloe: “Because I ran out of shaving lotion!”

Bwahahaha!

‘Tis no matter. I can always buy more shaving lotion –

And I always love to receive love notes from my family!

Of course, this isn’t the strangest thing I’ve found in my shower! 

— Darcy Perdu

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(What or who is the strangest thing you’ve found in YOUR shower? Do your kids leave you little love notes?)

HOME HERO

HomeHero Ad 429

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They already have 800 caregivers onboard – and they’ve helped hundreds of families across Southern California find senior care for their loved-ones. If you’re looking for affordable quality home care, check them out at HomeHero. 

(This is a sponsored post with Mums the Word Blogger Network and HomeHero. All opinions are my own.)

EMBARRASSING Teen Texts – from My Own Teen!

So then…my teen daughter shoots me the glare of a thousand blazing suns and motions for me to BEHAVE.

And for no reason!

I’m merely sighing, foot tapping, and looking pointedly at the clock in a subtle effort to indicate to the two employees sitting behind the desk of this tutor center that it’s well past our appointed appointment time.

Chloe, age 15, whispers, “Stop that!” and nods her head toward the employees.

I whisper mock-seriously, “It’s fifteen minutes past our appointment with the manager! I’m a super-important busy woman with super-important things to do!”

Chloe whispers, “Shhhh!” then texts me fast and furiously on her phone so the staff can’t hear us:

TextAAAA1

Tsk – she’s worried I might embarrass her when we meet with the center manager. How about the appalling lack of punctuation and grammar in that text she just sent?

Chloe took the mock SAT test earlier this week, so today the center manager will tell us the test results, recommend which areas Chloe needs to strengthen, and try to sell us on a package of SAT prep tutoring sessions. Many of Chloe’s classmates study for the SAT and ACT at this center.

If you’re wondering why on earth Chloe thinks I might embarrass her in the meeting…

1) I’m a mimic.

Not in a mean way. Just in a “that-seems-cool/fun/awesome-I-want-to-do-it-too” sort of way.

So if we’re on the dance floor and you’re bustin’ some sweet moves, I will instantly copy those moves. Not to make fun of you. Just because it looks cool and I want to do it too!

If you’re humming a song when I pass you in the grocery store, I’ll still be humming that same tune 3 aisles later.

If you have an accent, I will speak in that accent. To your face. I don’t even realize that I’m doing it. It’s an unconscious mimic reflex!

If you’re Southern, a slight drawl will creep into my inflection.

It’s undetectable at first, but eventually my speech pattern will emulate yours, even if you’re from New Yawk or Bah-ston.

Now if your accent is British, French, or Australian – my involuntary imitation of your manner of speech is either adorable – or awkward – or mildly annoying.

But if your accent is Spanish or Asian – my unintentional simulation can come off as slightly racist.

But I swear I’m not racist!

Honestly I’m not! You can ask my ethnically-diverse friends and relatives!

I genuinely make an effort to curb this inadvertent replication, but every once in awhile, I slip. My kids are there to shoot daggers if I do.

So Chloe might be nervous about our upcoming meeting since the manager and two employees of this education center are all Asian.

2) I like lemon.

Well, that’s fascinating, Darcy, but what the hell does lemon have to do with anything?

At restaurants, I always order “a Diet Coke and a water, with lemons, lots of lemons.” Usually I get no lemons. Or one tiny lemon slice in each drink. But I like LOTS of lemons.

So I’ve learned that if I say, “May I please have a Diet Coke and a water – with a little tray of lemons?” accompanied by hand motions that form a little tray, the server knows exactly what I want – and they bring me a little plate covered in lemon slices.

I’m thrilled – and my children are mortified.

“Why do you have to make the hand motions?!?”

“It’s the only way to get the plate of lemon slices. I’ve scientifically experimented with, and without, the hand motions. It’s the only way.”

“It is NOT the only way!”

“Shut up and eat your bowl of pasta I could’ve made at home for 79 cents.”

3) I like discounts.

Look, I’m not a fanatic. I’m not price-haggling every merchant like a loon.

But if I find myself buying something at Bed Bath & Beyond when my 20% off coupon is still back home on the kitchen counter, you’re gonna hear about it. All day long. And possibly into next week.

And if someone’s trying to sell me hundreds of dollars of SAT prep classes, you can bet I’m going to inquire about a discount – or at least ask if my friend Yvette can get a discount on her daughter’s classes since they referred us to this center!

So now you know the context behind these texts:

Chloe’s texts are on the left in grey – and my responses are on the right in green or blue.

Since she told me to behave at the meeting, I reply:

TextA2A

Chloe looks horrified!

I text:

TextA2B

TextA3

I giggle a bit.

TextA4

Chloe smirks, so I respond with:

TextA4B

TextA5

I crack up laughing.

TextA6

At this point, Chloe snatches my phone and texts me on my own phone:

TextA7

Just then the door opens. The manager says, “Thank you for waiting. Please come in.”

Chloe fires me a warning look. I smile innocently. We follow the manager into her office.

— Darcy Perdu

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(What are your favorite ways to embarrass YOUR kids? Anybody else out there with “involuntary accent mimic syndrome?”)

EMBARRASSING Teen Texts - FROM My Teen! #funny @SoThenStories.com

Wanna Hear Some Embarrassingly Comical Classroom Blunders?

Embarrassing & True - Comical Classroom Blunders @SoThenStories.com
So then…my Saddle Oxfords swing to and fro beneath my blue plaid skirt and white blouse, as I try mightily to pay attention to the teacher at SVA – that’s St. Vincent’s Academy, the all-girls Catholic high school.

We joke that SVA stands for “Saints, Virgins & Angels.” (cough cough)

Anyway, I strain to comprehend Mr. A, our physics teacher – because honestly, all science is a mystery to me. He might as well be speaking Japanese and drawing hieroglyphics on the chalkboard for as well as I’m understanding this subject matter.

Typically, I fare pretty well academically, but in this class, I’m skating by, strictly on the basis of memorization.

So when Mr. A begins discussing resistance of electric circuits — I get super excited that I actually know the answer when he asks the class, “What does “Z” stands for?”

Without even raising my hand, I shout, “IMPOTENCE! IMPOTENCE!”

Silence.

Mr. A’s shocked face.

Giggles and guffaws from the whole class.

Apparently the correct answer is impedance (pronounced “im-peed-ins”)

IMPOTENCE is something else all together.

And back in the days that I went to high school, IMPOTENCE is not exactly a word you heard commonly bandied about in an all-girls school, especially in front of our only male teacher.

Mr. A turns bright red.

He opens his mouth to speak, but dissolves into silent laughter.

He turns away and starts again – no words came out. Just more laughter.

He tries to write something on the chalkboard, but he laughs so hard, his hand shakes.

He tries yet another time to speak, but cannot contain his mirth.

Blessedly, the bell rings for lunch and we girls scuttle out of the classroom.

(Much later, Mr. A tells me that he went to the Teacher’s Lounge to eat his lunch and kept bursting into silent fits of laughter, while the other teachers looked at him oddly.)

I have no idea if Mr. A knows someone who suffers from that particular bedroom issue – or whether he just thinks IMPOTENCE is a hysterically incorrect answer for impedance, but I’m glad to provide him with such a hearty chuckle!

Of course, nowadays, formerly forbidden language is tossed around in daily discussion: “What’s with all the bathtubs in those erectile dysfunction commercials? Which reminds me, when you’re at the store for chips and salsa, pick up condoms. Great, thanks, pass the salt please.”

But back in my high school days, especially at a Catholic all-girls school, one simply did not talk about such things!

In fact, at our Junior Talent Show, my classmate and I served as co-MCs, so we’d take turns telling jokes as we introduced the acts.

On the first night, my co-MC asked the audience, “How can you recognize Ronald McDonald at a nudist colony?” Answer: “By his sesame seed buns!” Huge laugh.

But the school notified her that her MC services wouldn’t be needed on the second night!

Seriously! Booted from the show for a buns joke!

Four years later, my little sister Della served as MC for the SVA Junior Talent Show. In her enthusiasm, she stumbled on her words and announced to the whole auditorium of students, siblings, parents, teachers, and nuns:

“At intermission, please join us in the lobby for cocks and cookies.”

Cokes.

She meant Cokes.

Not cocks.

I never saw the nuns run so fast. To the lobby.

Ha, OK, kidding. The nuns did not run to the lobby – and they were not amused by my sister’s faux pas. But even they had to admit it was merely a mistake – and not a deliberate offer of penises. (peni?)

So between my sister’s cocks and my impotence, we’re obviously fabulous role models!

— Darcy Perdu

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(What words are commonplace now that you’d never have dreamed of uttering in the classroom when you were a kid? Ever embarrass yourself with a funny mispronunciation or wrong word?)

Perfectly Reasonable — or Daddy’s Double Standard?

So then…my husband David suggests that we try to eat dinner around 5:30 pm every day, otherwise our kids (age 3 & 5) tend to get a little hanky (hungry-cranky).

Good idea. So we follow that schedule.

Cut to three weeks later:

I let David know that I need to work late this evening. No problem, he says.

I come home at 7:30 pm to a completely clean kitchen.

Awesome! He must have fed the kids, then cleaned up afterwa—

Wait a minute.

I enter the family room where the kids and he are watching TV.

I greet everyone – hugs, kisses – and inquire about their days.

Then, when the kids are out of earshot…

Me:  Did you feed the kids?

Him: Oh. Nah. (shrugs) They didn’t seem hungry.

Me:  They said they weren’t hungry?

Him: I didn’t ask them. They just didn’t seem hungry.

Me:  They didn’t SEEM hungry? You mean they weren’t writhing on the floor, clutching their bellies, begging for sustenance? They didn’t faint of malnutrition right in front of you? They didn’t collapse in front of the refrigerator with their tiny little fingers clawing at the door? OK, let’s just not feed them until they SEEM hungry. That sounds like a splendid plan!

He grins at my melodramatic contortions, but still attempts a lame, “Well, it’s OK to miss a meal once in awhile…”

Uh-huh. Hmmm. How interesting that the “once in awhile” happens to coincide with the one night I’m working late and he’s in charge of feeding them.

So if I’m around, dinner should be at 5:30 – but when he’s at the helm, dinner should be when the tykes send him an engraved invitation?

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great Dad – and usually pretty helpful with the kids – but this time, it’s a bit of a double standard, right?

Or do I just need to train my kids to pound their silverware on the table and chant “FOOD, FOOD, FOOD!” like li’l prison convicts when they’re hungry?
Hmm, seems like a Daddy Double Standard if you ask ME -- but YOU decide! #funny @SoThenStories.com
— Darcy Perdu

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(Any double standards at YOUR house with YOUR spouse? Lay it on us!)

Who’s Singin’ the “How the Hell Is This School Project Gettin’ Done in Time” Blues?

So then…both my kids announce brand new huge projects that must be completed before the school year ends — which is just a couple weeks away — and I suspect these projects weren’t assigned today.

Of course, this reminds me of the School Project to End All School Projects, so I’ll share this here just in case any of you are singin’ the “How the Hell Is This School Project Gettin’ Done in Time” Blues!

That Special Joy When Another Mom Notifies You Just How Oblivious Your Kid Is -- Honestly, are ALL kids procrastinators or do some kids have a special knack for being COMPLETELY OBLIVIOUS? SoThenStories.com #funny

So then…she nibbles the walnut brownie I baked and comments on how nicely Tucker and her son Andrew, both age 11, are playing basketball in our backyard.

I beam. This is the first time Linda’s son has come over.  (I’d even tidied up the house and baked some “get-to-know-you” brownies.)

“They’ve had a great afternoon,” I say. “Thanks for letting Andrew come home with us after school. Tucker’s really enjoyed hanging out with him.”

Linda nods, picks up Andrew’s backpack, and heads for the patio door to collect her son. She says, “Yeah, I almost had to cancel though, because Andrew hadn’t made enough progress on his International Fair project yet. But he did a lot last night, so he’s in pretty good shape.”

My pulse quickens. What International Fair project? I ask.

She looks at me as though I’m joking. “The one that’s due Monday.”

Today is Friday.

“Oh, is that, like an optional project, like for a Science Fair, or something?” I ask hopefully.

She turns to me, backpack on her shoulder, and says, “No, this is the big 6th grade History project they’ve supposed to have been working on all semester. Surely Tucker’s told you about it?”

I’m sure I’m turning bright red from embarrassment – and bright white from panic.

“Um, no, he hasn’t mentioned it. What’s due on Monday?”

Well, now she sets the backpack down and turns her attention completely toward me, and braces herself to tell me some very bad news.

“OK, each child picks a country, then they need to write a report on 6 topics of that country, like climate, cuisine, politics, religion, stuff like that.”

I gulp.  Sweat forms on my brow.

International Fair Darcy Concern
“Each report has to be typed up and pasted on a tri-fold poster board with artwork and photos,” she continues.

“Well, um, OK,” I stammer. “I..I think we can work on that this weekend. I can run to the crafts store for the poster board. We can probab-“

“Get the flag materials there too,” she interrupts.

“There’s a flag?” I ask.

“Yes, and a costume.”

“WHAT?”

“Yes, this is why they gave the kids all semester to work on it! They need to make that country’s flag out of fabric and put it on a stick because they’ll carry it in the procession. Then they also need to wear a costume that’s native to the country – it can be homemade, or maybe you have a friend or family member who has something from that country, or—“

She stops as she sees me sit down, about to hyperventilate.

I whisper, “I don’t even know what his country is.”

She winces.

International Fair Linda Explains
“OK, look, I hate to keep going, but you should know the kids also need to cook an authentic dish from their country.” She blurts it out very quickly like she’s ripping off a band-aid. “And they need to have enough bite-size servings for 40 students because all the 6th graders and their parents are invited to the International Fair – which is Monday.” Then super-fast she says, “And it’s 25% of their grade.”

She picks up the backpack again and turns toward the patio door. She looks back at me and I see indecision on her face. Should she flee the scene? Grab her son and run away, kissing him all over for having the good sense to tell her about the International Fair project months ago?

Or should she stay and comfort a fallen comrade in the Mommy Wars?

Please, my eyes beg her. Don’t abandon me. Explain more about this International Fair of which you speak. Help me, guide me, tell me my son’s frikking country, something, anything, for God’s sake. What’s your son’s country? Can our sons choose the same country? Can my son join your son and share his flag and his tri-fold and his cuisine? I beg of you…

Of course I don’t say any of those words out loud. But she can see them in my eyes. So she pats me on the shoulder, opens the patio door, and calls for Andrew.

The boys come running in. Linda says a nervous goodbye to an oblivious Tucker, hastily thanks me, hustles Andrew out the door, and snags another brownie on her way out.

Bitch. She annihilates me AND still has time to take a treat?

I shouldn’t have thought that. Of course she’s not a bitch. Why shoot the messenger when there is somebody much more appropriate to receive my wrath?

As the front door closes, I turn to Tucker, narrow my eyes, and ask in a chillingly low voice, “Did you know there was an International Fair project due on Monday?”

He stuffs a brownie bite in his mouth and says brightly, “Yeah, but it’s like a Science Fair or something – it’s optional.

I grip the handles of the chair. “Tucker.It.Is.Not.Optional.It.Is.25%.Of.Your.Grade!”

He shrugs, says, “Huh,” and takes another bite.

I look at him with wonder that this truly carefree child emanated from the womb of a Type A hyper-organized, compulsive pre-planner like myself.

“Linda said the teachers have been talking about this International Fair all semester. Did you think they would spend that much time talking about an optional project?” I ask.

He screws up his face and lifts his shoulders in a gesture of Hey, who knows what’s on the minds of those crazy teachers?

International Fair Tucker Shrugging
I take a breath. “Tucker,” I say. “Do you even know what country you have? And if you chose a country, what did you think you were choosing it FOR, since you thought the project was optional?

He finishes the last bite of the brownie and says, “Oh yeah, I chose Mexico. I thought it was like ‘Hey, where would you like to visit if you could pick any country?’ And I picked Mexico because I love Mexican food.”

“Well, I’m glad you do, Tucker. I’m glad you do. Because you are going to be making Mexican food all weekend. And a flag and a costume and 6 reports! YOU ARE GOING TO BE ALL MEXICO ALL THE TIME FOR THE NEXT 48 HOURS!!”

And thus began one of the most painful, stressful weekends in the history of school projects.

Ay Caramba!

International Fair Tucker Color
— Darcy Perdu

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Original Illustrations for So Then Stories created by Shelly at Shell Graphics

(Any projects that snuck up on you or your kids? Any surprise tests? Or how about the “oh-yeah-I-need-36-cupcakes-for-school-tomorrow-Mom” at 9:00 at night? Share your Stories and Comments below! I LOVE to read them!)

International Fair Hearing the News Color

Do I Embarrass Myself in Front of Celebrities? Why Yes, Yes I Do!

Backstage Bungle -- funny & embarrassing story!  @SoThenStories

So then…I confess that I neglected to share a rather embarrassing tale from my recent trip to Vegas with my two teen kids and their three pals.

Oh sure, I shared our shenanigans and hypnotized hilarity – but of course, no trip is complete without my own personal embarrassment…

THE BACKSTAGE BUNGLE
Our friend arranges for us to see a comedian friend of his, so the teens and I get awesome free seats and an opportunity to meet the comedian backstage afterwards.

The show’s hilarious! We love it!

Afterwards, an usher brings us to an attractive guy named Jim who’s the comedian’s assistant or road manager or something. He takes us backstage to a waiting room, then into the comedian’s dressing room.

The kids and I greet the comedian and thank him for the seats.

While the kids are talking to the comedian, I go off to the side with Jim. I gesture toward the kids with my Iphone and whisper to him, “Do you think it’s OK if I take a picture?”

“Sure!” he says, “That’s flattering!”

“Oh, OK,” I say shyly. “I never know. I don’t want to ask a celeb for a photo if it’s too pushy or something.”

“Not at all!” says Jim, smiling. “I’m happy to take a photo with them. They probably won’t know who I am though!”

Huh?

I look at him strangely. They won’t know who you are? I don’t know who you are, either!

So I’m looking at this Jim guy totally confused, when suddenly –

LIGHTBULB!

Oh, damn. Now I remember! The comedian mentioned during the show that his friend was in the audience – a singer from a popular boy band in the late 90’s.

Oh, damn, damn, damn. Jim’s not the comedian’s assistant! He’s the friend – who’s also a celeb! And he thinks I’m asking for HIS picture!

I quickly try to recover gracefully, nodding my head enthusiastically, like yes yes that’s exactly what I intended all along please by all means get in this photo you delicious little former boy-bander you!

So then follows a horribly awkward photo shoot where I’m directing my kids and their friends to all smush together in pics with the comedian and the hottie 90’s singer-dancer.

Argh!

Could I just make it through ONE WEEK without embarrassing myself?

Nope.

As we leave the theater, walking along, I stop dead in my tracks and gasp!

Because now I remember something that makes me wince with fresh new embarrassment.

Before we went to the comedian’s dressing room, about 10 of us were squeezed into a tiny waiting room — me, the 5 teens with me, a few friends of the comedian, and Jim.

Jim was standing and the rest of us were sitting on two benches facing each other – smashed in so close, our knees were touching the people seated opposite us!

After awhile, conversation petered out a bit, so one of the adults said, “We need some entertainment while we’re waiting” and someone said something to Jim like, “Are you humming over there?”

He grinned — so I asked, “Oh, do you sing?” in that tone of voice you use when you discover someone who has one job — has just been revealed to have another talent.

Like the tone of voice I’d use if my plumber glanced longingly at my piano and I said with a tinge of surprise, “Oh, do you play?”

I was thinking, “Oh, Jim the assistant also happens to sing.  That’s cool.”

And when I asked “Oh, do you sing?” — Jim and the others laughed which I took to mean “Good God, no!” which is the same response I’d give – because I’m a dreadful singer (even the nuns say so).

Just then, the door opened and we filed out to the comedian’s dressing room.  One of the women smiled at me and murmured, “That’s a good one.”

NOW it all makes sense. She and the others thought I KNEW Jim was a famous former boy bander so they interpreted my question to be “faux innocent” – like I was ribbing him or teasing him!

Like batting my eyelashes and asking Kobe Bryant, “Oh, do you play ball?”
Or asking Meryl Streep, “Oh, do you act?”
Asking Miley Cyrus, “Oh, do you twerk?”
Asking that old Vatican guy with the funny hat, “Oh, are you religious?”

So Jim and the other adults all thought I was being clever and coy and maybe even flirtatious!

But I was just being completely clueless – which, I suppose, is its own special talent.

Embarrassing myself being yet another special talent I possess.

So, former boy bander, if you ever read this post – just know that you’re still smokin’ hot and I’d love to hear you croon anytime, baby!

— Darcy Perdu

PS I changed his name for this post so as not to embarrass him – or myself – any further!

If you enjoyed this post, receive NEW funny posts by subscribing HERE!

(Ever embarrassed yourself in front of a celeb? Do you know all the 90’s boy banders by sight?)

For hilarious tales from the front lines of parenting — and my story of the most embarrassing thing I’ve EVER done — buy this rockin’ new book, I STILL Just Want to Pee Alone!
I Still Just Want To Pee Alone at Amazon.com




Click the Buy Now button for an autographed copy mailed right to your door!

WHAT in the WORLD…?

Not sure what's the MOST embarrassing thing in this post - but ALL of it has me in giggles! @sothenstories

So then…I clarify that this post is not intended to make fun of the people mentioned in the post.

Which I’d never do.

It IS intended to make fun of my teen daughter Chloe.

Which I do all the time.

In fact, it’s my life’s work.

But let’s face it, she’s an accomplice to that. She just makes it so easy.

For the purposes of today’s tale, you should know that Mr. V is a very smart, skilled science teacher with grey hair – and an accent from a country whose surnames have so many vowels, everyone just calls him Mr. V.

And now our tale:

As I’m laying down on Chloe’s bed while she puts on her pajamas, I tell her about a vendor’s new employee I met today. “She’s very sharp, capable, professional – dresses beautifully – really very impressive—”

“But…?” asks Chloe, as she climbs into the bed.

“But she ends every sentence with ‘and everything,’” I say. “It’s the oddest thing. I’m used to people saying ‘ya know’ or ‘ok’ repetitively, but I’ve never met anyone who said that. And she kinds of slurs it, like ‘an’ errrthing.’”

“She says it a lot?” asks Chloe.

“Yes! She’ll say, ‘We’ll send you the spreadsheets an’ errrthing, then you can review the figures an’ errrthing so we can get together for a meeting an’ errrthing.’”

“No way!”

“Yes, really! But she’s so professional in every other way, she may not even know she’s doing it. We’re going to be working together a lot — I’m wondering if I could discreetly mention it to her, as a helpful—”

“NO!” says Chloe.

“Just a friendly word of advice? She might appreciate it.”

“No, Mom, you cannot do that! I hate when people tell me I use the word “like” all the time! I know I use it, but I’m like a Valley Girl – I can’t help it!”

‘Like’ a Valley Girl?” I grin. She laughs.

“Well,” I say authoritatively, “Sometimes in business it’s OK to advise people—”

“No, no, no!” She shakes her head vehemently.

I laugh and say, “Yes, it IS OK – hey, don’t you remember that time my friend Carol had to tell her employee that people complained about him stinking? Remember? And she had to tell him to take showers? He was from a different country where they don’t shower that much so—”

“OMIGOD! Like Mr. V!!” she exclaims.

“Oh really? Does he smell a bit—?”

“OH!” she says fervently, “It’s in-TOX-icating!”

Bwahahahahahahaha!

I die laughing.

“In-TOX-icating? The smell is in-TOX-icating?” I ask.

She blushes and blurts, “Yes! Wait! Is that the right word?”

“Chloe, that means you find his scent powerful and exhilarating! Appealing and captivating! Like you’re drunk on his aroma! Like you’re swooning!”

She buries her head in the pillow – mortified!

“Did you mean the smell is ‘in-TOL-erable” instead of ‘in-TOX-icating?’ Maybe? Just maybe?”

She pulls the covers over her head.

I impersonate her voice and add a flirtatious lilt. “Oh Mr. V, come closer, come closer. Your smell is so in-TOX-icating!”

She’s shouting “STOP STOP STOP!” from under the covers — and the bed’s shaking ‘cause we’re laughing so hard.

And you can bet that ever since then, whenever she least suspects it – (and often when we’re in the company of others) – I interrupt the conversation to passionately blurt, “Oh! It’s so in-TOX-icating!”

She always turns bright red and shoots me a fierce look – and I just laugh and laugh and laugh!

— Darcy Perdu
PS I changed his initial to further protect the teacher’s anonymity!

If you enjoyed this post, receive NEW funny posts by subscribing HERE!

(What words do YOUR kids mix up? Have you ever had to give constructive feedback on an awkward issue to an employee/coworker?)

For hilarious tales from the front lines of parenting — and my story of the most embarrassing thing I’ve EVER done — buy this rockin’ new book, I STILL Just Want to Pee Alone!
I Still Just Want To Pee Alone at Amazon.com




Click the Buy Now button for an autographed copy mailed right to your door!

Hypnotism and Humiliation: Vegas-Style!

Hypnotism & Humiliation - Vegas Style
So then…I take my two teens and their three pals on an educational Spring Break trip to Washington DC to learn more about our nation’s politics.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Are you kidding me?

I take ‘em to Vegas!

You can click here for Part 1 of our shenanigans –

And now for Part 2 –

HYPNOTIST SHOW

My teens, Chloe and Tucker, and their pals want to see a Hypnotist Show, so we head over to the Marc Savard show at the V Theater.

I glance about skeptically as we file in and sit down.

The hypnotist starts speaking. I cross my arms.

I don’t believe in hypnotism.

The hypnotist tells the audience that lots of people think they don’t believe in hypnotism.

(Well, he’s psychic at least! That’s exactly what I’m thinking!)

The hypnotist says that’s like saying, “I don’t believe in gravity,” but it still exists. “Hypnotism exists whether you believe or not.”

I smirk. No such thing. His “volunteers” will obviously be plants – people he hired to pretend to be hypnotized.

He calls for volunteers from the audience. My son’s friend Marco stands up. WHAT!?

Marco goes on stage, gets hypnotized with the other volunteers — and starts following the commands of the hypnotist — tapping, standing, snoring, squirming, making funny faces, reacting to imaginary snakes, and RIVER DANCING!

Yes – RIVER DANCING! – 18-year-old tall, cool Marco is kicking his Irish Jig legs all akimbo, enthusiastically strutting and popping heel-toe-heel-toe, sideways kick!

So unless Marco is secretly on this hypnotist’s payroll, I guess hypnotism IS real?

Mind blown.

We’re all laughing hysterically at the antics on stage.

The hypnotist convinces one volunteer that she’s wildly in love with him – and convinces another that she’s repulsed by him.

He hypnotizes a huge muscular guy to respond to every shoulder tap by breaking down into sobs and hugging whoever’s closest to him!

He tells them all that a belt is a snake, so when he approaches with the belt and a hiss, they all flip the flip out!

Then the hypnotist brings out a STRIPPER POLE and invites the volunteers to AUDITION!

My son and I exchange a look. A look that says, “This is about to get REALLY awkward.”

Nothing like watching your guy friend attempt sultry stripper moves in front of your Mom. Not to mention the rest of the audience.

If he performs really badly – it’s embarrassing.

If he performs really well – it’s even more disturbing!

Should I storm the stage and rescue my teen charge? Should I just avert my eyes?

Who suggested this damn show? Why aren’t we doing something respectable like visiting the MGM lions?

Fortunately, the hypnotist is playing the scene for laughs – so he quickly taps the “strippers” if they start to take their audition a little too seriously.

And believe me, some of these volunteers tackle this task with a gusto and passion that’ll make your eyes bleed!

The audience is dying laughing – Marco’s looking like he’s having a great time – and yes OF COURSE we pay the $20 bucks for the DVD of tonight’s show so that we have Marco Blackmail Material for many years to come!

(Perfect wedding reception video, don’t ya think?)

All in all, we have an absolute blast swimming, sightseeing, dining, and enjoying shows. We love us some Vegas!

Of course, about 3 hours into the drive home to LA, Marco realizes that the $120 cash he put in the room safe for safekeeping was still safely IN the safe!!

As we call Lost & Found, I can’t help wondering if the hypnotist hypnotized Marco to leave the money there — and secretly extracted the safe code from Marco so he could recover the money himself!

Hmm…googling “How to become a hypnotist” right now!

— Darcy Perdu

UPDATE!  Because the internet is a miraculous place, my blogging friend Jessica Ziegler of hilarious Science of Parenthood saw this story and said she KNOWS hypnotist Marc Savard – then HE commented too!     Hypnotism (Facebook comments)

If you enjoyed this post, receive NEW funny posts by subscribing HERE!

(Do YOU believe in hypnotism? Can I BECOME a hypnotist so I can make business colleagues bend to my will & make my kids clean their rooms & make hot celebs fall in love with me? What would you do with YOUR hypnotism powers?)

For hilarious tales from the front lines of parenting — and my story of the most embarrassing thing I’ve EVER done — buy this rockin’ new book, I STILL Just Want to Pee Alone!
I Still Just Want To Pee Alone at Amazon.com




Click the Buy Now button for an autographed copy mailed right to your door!

Dispatches from Spring Break Vegas Trip

So then…I consider all the educational, enriching, cultural landmarks I can visit with my kids on Spring Break – and instantly choose VEGAS!

Dispatches from Spring Break Vegas Trip

That’s right, I’m taking my two teens and three of their teen friends to Vegas for Spring Break!

Gambling! Drinking! Strip Clubs!

Oh wait. That’s for my business trips to Vegas.

This is a family-friendly trip! Recalculating, recalculating…

Still a go!
Tucker & Chloe, their 3 pals, and I head off to Nevada!
And now, here are Dispatches from Our Vegas Trip:

PLANNING OUR WEEK
Me: OK Kids, what would you like to do in Vegas?

Maggie (daughter’s friend): Oh! I’d love to see a hypnotist show & swim in the wave pool at Mandalay Bay & go to the buffet at Aria & — well, if I wasn’t anti-MGM—

Me: Why are you anti-MGM?

Maggie: Because they have lions in captivity in their hotel lobby! That’s so cruel!

Me: Oh, OK. Well, if you weren’t anti-MGM, what would you wanna do there?

Maggie (quietly, sheepishly): See the lions.

Me: *blink*

Maggie: What?

Me: Ha! I thought you were going to say, eat at MGM’s Rainforest Café or see a certain show there – but the thing you’d want to see there is the very thing that prevents you from going there? You’re hilarious!

Maggie: Um…thank you?

(PS We did end up at Rainforest Café later, but we respectfully averted our eyes from any potentially captive lobby lions.)

1 Dispatches Pool 429

POOLSIDE FUN
Heading down to the pool – but first, I’m in the shower –
shaving legs, underarms…and now toes? TOES? Holy Hell!

Where did these Hairy Hobbit Hooves come from?
Am I the only one with this affliction? I gotta shave those li’l puppies!
But I can’t even touch my toes on dry land!
How am I gonna reach ‘em in a slippery shower wielding a sharp razor?
Oh Lordy – pray for me!
Two band-aids later…

1 Dispatches Michael_Jackson_One_graphic 429

CIRQUE DU SOLEIL – MICHAEL JACKSON ONE
There are about 87 Cirque du Soleil shows in this town. This one features Michael Jackson. I thought he was no longer with us but hey, this is Vegas – anything’s possible.

Wow, awesome show! These performers are phenomenally talented! Not sure if that last dancer was actually Michael – or a hologram – but either way, damn, can he dance!

1 Dispatches Michael hologram

PS: Quitting my job to become trampoline-artist with Cirque du Soleil! Those guys have a blast! I’m uniquely qualified for this job! When I fall, I bounce! Sign me up!

1 Dispatches Trampoline

ARIA BUFFET
All the foods. All over the world. All at once. All in mah belly!
Deee-lish!

1 Dispatches Buffet Seafood

FREMONT STREET
Wade into the wild, wonderful sea of humanity in downtown Las Vegas? Sure!

1 Dispatches Fremont Sign
Yes, kids, you can zip line down Fremont Street over the heads of all these drunk tourists and street performers, but be careful of pickpockets and affectionate lushes as we make our way to the zip line.

Don’t get too close to anyone or you’ll end up mugged and pregnant with an STD and a meth addiction.

1 Dispatches Fremont Zip Line

Stay tuned for Part 2 of Dispatches from Spring Break Vegas Trip…
— Darcy Perdu

If you enjoyed this post, you can receive NEW funny posts by subscribing HERE!

(Seriously, what the hell with the toe hair? Anybody, anybody? Meanwhile, what’s your favorite thing to do in Vegas?)

For hilarious tales from the front lines of parenting — and my story of the most embarrassing thing I’ve EVER done — buy this rockin’ new book, I STILL Just Want to Pee Alone!
I Still Just Want To Pee Alone at Amazon.com




Click the Buy Now button for an autographed copy mailed right to your door!

I’m Published! In a BOOK! Aw HELL Yeah!

So then…I’m published!

I bound up the stairs, then execute a flawless triple axel from the balcony, two cartwheels, and some enthusiastic twerking!

Followed by my SUPAH STAH pose:

Molly Shannon

Shout out to the incomparable Mary Katherine Gallagher (Molly Shannon)!

Yep, I’m published, peeps!

In a real live book!

THIS BOOK!
I Still Just Want To Pee Alone at Amazon.com
And you can OWN this book!

For a mere $9.99!

Just click this little book ritecheer:     

OR I can personally autograph the book and mail it to your house for a slight upcharge of $3.00 to cover shipping, handling, pen ink, and the laborious labor of me actually signing your book – plus workmen’s comp in case I sustain a signing-related injury. Just PayPal me a total of $12.99 to darcy@sothenstories.com — and tell me to whom to inscribe the literary tome – as well as your personal home address so I can mail you the book (and watch you while you sleep).





“Darcy, you know we worship the very ground you walk upon,
but is this book really worth the money?”

HELLS YEAH!

Not only does it contain MY hysterical true tale, it contains HILARIOUS & HEARTFELT stories and essays from 39 other kick-ass writers.

Jen Mann, New York Times best-selling author, hand-picked the 40 contributors in this book to produce one helluva rollickin’ read!

“I am mightily intrigued! What’s your story about?”

Well, you know how I share some of my most bodacious blunders and hilarious humiliations on this blog so you can laugh out loud – and cringe, thanking the Good Lord you’re not me?

Well, the story I share in this book is THE MOST EMBARRASSING thing I have EVER done.

And it’s in PUBLIC – like, VERY PUBLIC.  Like DISNEYLAND PUBLIC. 

And it’s HYSTERICAL!

Seriously! One time, I tried to TELL the story verbally – but I was laughing and crying so hard, gasping for breath, I couldn’t even get the words out!

So I had to write it down! And submit it to this anthology! And Jen Mann chose it for the book, so I CAN’T WAIT for you to read it!

And if any of you awesome peeps are going to be in the LA area on April 30, you can come celebrate with me, Jen Mann, and 3 other contributors, Kathryn Leehane, Tracy Sano, and Mackenzie Cheeseman at our Book Reading/Signing Party!

We’re all humor writers so we’re going to read hella-funny stuff, share cupcakes, and sign books! So if you happen to live near LA, email me at darcy@sothenstories.com if you can join us at 12 noon on April 30 at Calabasas Library, 200 Civic Center Way, Calabasas, CA!

Meanwhile, you’ll also enjoy reading all the stories and essays in the book by the other fabulously talented writers!

And guess what?  PERFECT MOTHER’S DAY GIFT!

Aw hell yeah!

So pony up some pretty pennies to buy a copy for you – and yo mama – and yo sister & neighbor & teacher & Zumba partner & parole officer!

THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY DID-I-MENTION-I’M-A-PUBLISHED-AUTHOR HEART!

— Darcy Perdu

If you love laughing, receive NEW funny posts by subscribing HERE!

(So excited, you guys! Hope you check out the book at Amazon.com – or the library – or just read over someone’s shoulder! I hope you like it!!)