How to Punk Your Kid in a VERY Funny Way

How to Punk Your Kid in a VERY Funny Way #humor #trick #kids #parenting #funny

So then…I tap my car blinker, round a corner, and catch Chloe’s eye in the rear-view mirror.

“What’s wrong, honey? You look worried,” I say to my 6-year-old daughter.

My son Tucker, age 9, turns around from the front seat to look at his little sister in the back.

“Well,” she says, “I’m can’t think of anything to confess for my Reconciliation.”

“Ohhh,” says Tucker. “I remember doing that when I was in second grade. You have to confess some sins to the priest before you can have your First Holy Communion.”

“Yeah,” says Chloe. “And it’s this weekend and everyone in my Communion class has to have a sin to tell Father Tom.”

“Well, honey, you shouldn’t stress about it,” I reassure her.

“But I don’t know what to say. What should I confess?” she asks.

“How about ‘Triple Homicide?’” I say.

Tucker bursts out laughing.

“What, what?” says Chloe.

“Triple Homicide!” says Tucker. “Yes, definitely say that, Chloe!”

“What does it mean?” she asks. “What’s tripplehommassigh?”

(Geez, what’s wrong with this kid? Doesn’t she watch Law & Order?)

“Oh, it just means you disobey your parents sometimes,” I say.

Tucker snickers. “Yeah, that’s right,” he says.

(Clearly he agrees with me it would be hysterical to have this darling little 6-year-old girl sweetly confess to murder to our elderly parish priest.)

But Chloe’s suspicious of our merriment. “Wait, what does it REALLY mean?”

“OK, OK. It means you killed 3 people,” I say.

“WHAT! Mom! I’m not gonna say that to Father Tom!” she exclaims.

“Yes, you should. Just sit down and whisper menacingly, ‘I’m confessing to Triple Homicide. And if you tell anyone, I’ll make it QUADRUPLE.’”

Tucker laughs so hard.

Chloe is horrified. (especially once we tell her what “quadruple” means)

But we tell her how funny this is – and how priceless the priest’s expression would be – and she actually considers it.

But of course on the big day, she chickens out and confesses to something totally lame like fighting with her brother or talking back to her parents.

Tucker and I are sorely disappointed.

But our spirits are lifted on the day of Chloe’s First Holy Communion when she provides us with a big belly laugh.

The Church is filled with the adorable 2nd graders – girls in gorgeous white dresses and veils; boys in mini suits and slicked back hair. The families are all beaming on this momentous occasion.

Chloe and a classmate are chosen to carry the bread and wine up the aisle to the altar to give to the priest.

As Chloe proudly walks up that aisle, past all the parishioners, she stumbles and DROPS the bread basket! The basket tumbles forward – and the consecrated holy hosts are about to go skittering across the floor in all directions!

There’s a collective “gasp!” from the congregation witnessing the travesty.

Thank God, (yes, I mean that LITERALLY), the basket rights itself before landing on the floor – with the Communion hosts safely intact inside! They do NOT touch the floor and do NOT need to be destroyed.

She quickly grabs up the basket and scrambles up the aisle to the altar, practically shoving it in the hands of the priest.

Tucker and I look at each other and lose it.  We’re biting our lips with laughter.

“One job. She had ONE job…”

(Of course Tucker is no stranger to creating an embarrassing ruckus in Church himself, as THIS story will quickly prove!)

— Darcy Perdu

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(Any embarrassing Church stories to share? When you were 6, what “sins” would you have been guilty of? Ever convince your kid to say something funny unbeknownst to them?)


Today I’m delighted to tell you about Iva, the amazingly articulate and fabulously funny writer behind the Yes I’m Crazy, That’s Why I’m Awesome blog. Some posts are short and funny like the person in the backseat throwing a tantrum for KFC (who turns out to be her 60+-year-old Mom!) — and some posts are insightful, well-researched essays that make you ponder that topic in a new light.

Why I'm Cray Awesomely Oz Iva Photo with Caption

In Iva’s own words: “Yes I’m Crazy, That’s Why I’m Awesome was started to release all the activity in my brain.  I love writing and always have, so I figured a healthy outlet that is my very own, with reasonable restrictions (it is the web you know) was a good idea.  I describe myself as an essayist with a descriptive-style of writing. Twice a week I post short and sweet moderately well-articulated articles about society and life.  As much as I focus on various life experiences, I love researching various topics. I love learning about different things and constantly strive to do so via my blog.  I have an entire series devoted to just that appropriately titled ‘GTFO’ -check out some of my post links below: 

GTFO: Mind Over Matter
The Irrationality of Irrational Anger
Liebster Award: Who Me? Couldn’t Be!

My readers have mentioned time and again that reading my blog, you can always learn something or at least leave pondering.  As one reader puts it: “I love your post content, I always feel I actually have some personal sort of growth from reading your blog!! :)” So come check me out sometime, I’d love to hear from ya! — Iva”

Thank you, Iva, for advertising on So Then Stories!  And thank you, readers, for checking out Iva’s blog!  — Darcy Perdu

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36 replies on “How to Punk Your Kid in a VERY Funny Way

  1. You never fail to crack me up, Darcy!! Lol! I’m not catholic, but my husband is and he knows he can always crack me up when he tells me stories about his Catholic school days, his first confession and his first communion. Thanks for giving me a well-needed laugh and smile today!
    Kathy Radigan recently posted..I Write Therefore I amMy Profile

    • Thanks, Kathy! Lots of funny stories about our Catholic school days — my sisters and I even attend an all-GIRLS Catholic school! Blue plaid skirts – hollah!

  2. Woohooo thank you for the sponsor love! :) LOL what a great story – did both of your kids go to Catholic school? At least she caught on to your trickery :) Have a great one -Iva
    AwesomelyOZ recently posted..GTFO: Today is February 25th, 2006My Profile

  3. Julie said:

    Memories! To think I went to Catholic school when they just started to lighten up a little and ease back just a touch on the rules! (the 60’s and early 70’s). I remember a priest actually stopping the mass to yell at one of my classmates for talking. Oh boy. Talk about a wet your pants moment!

    Yes, our uniform was blue and grey plaid, full back, V front attached to pleated skirt of the same wonderful woolen material. A white button up shirt was worn under with the snap tie around the neck. Let me tell you how wonderful that woolen uniform was at the beginning and the end of the school year in our wonderful non air conditioned school!

    • Yikes! A woolen uniform in non-AC school? Our uniforms weren’t woolen, but our Louisiana school was not well-cooled, so there were frequent faintings in Mass from the heat — and the incense! Ha! We had to wear saddle oxford shoes but I was a size 10 shoe in high school! Those childlike shoes looked ridiculous in a size 10! So embarrassing! Ha!

  4. I was chosen to be godmother to my neice, so I had to get a letter showing that I was a good Catholic. I contacted my parish, which I had not been in for YEARS, for my baptism records. They couldn’t find them, though they could find my brothers and my parents wedding license (or whatever). So I basically tell them I will never miss a Sunday mass again and then voila! it appears. Harumph. So the following Sunday I go to mass to make my face known to the priest. I turn my phone to silent. Silent, as in, will not make any noise.
    Well, perhaps the phone’s “silent” button means something entirely different because mid-homily my phone rings and at that time I had the very loud obnoxious Monday Night Football theme as my ring. MORTIFIED. Then I get a tap on my shoulder and I thought perhaps they were kicking me out, but they had chosen me to take up the gifts. I hadn’t been to church in so long I didn’t know what to do when I got up there, so I did some odd little bow/curtsey combo.
    I have not been back.
    My Special Kind of Crazy recently posted..The Family Challenge UpdateMy Profile

    • Oh my God, dying laughing over here! I can just picture your panicked face when the Monday Night Football theme rang out in the quiet church — AND the awkward curtsy/bow at the altar! And I love your ending: “I have not been back.” Ha!
      It reminds me of this funny poem we learned as kids:
      Whenever I pass a Church, I always stop in to visit.
      So when they carry me INTO the Church, the Lord won’t say “Who is it?”

  5. You are a mean and hilarious mom to that kid. I HOPE YOU LEARNED YOUR LESSON!

    You nearly got her SMITED, by the sound of things :p
    Considerer recently posted..I’m getting greedyMy Profile

  6. Rosemary said:

    When my twin sister and I were having our first communion,my two year old sister bolted to the front of the church just as the priest was holding up the holy host to bless it. She stopped, red cheeked with her curly pigtails bouncing, right in front of him and said “HI!” My mother was trying to get her, half crawling, half hunched, but grandfather was beet red and my grandmother was whispering, not so softly, “GET HER!!”

    • Ha! Love it! How adorable! Your baby sis just wanted in on the action!
      I bet you and your twin sister were darling in your little Communion dresses!

  7. HA HA HA! Just died laughing! It reminds me of my experiences with two religions growing up! Great post.

    • Thanks, Crystal! Twice the religions — twice the fun! :o)

  8. William Kendall said:

    If it was me, I’d have gone with the triple homicide confession.

    And then added stealing the Mona Lisa, starting a land war in Asia, and jaywalking across Time Square in rush hour.

    • Ha! William, our poor priest would have been sputtering by the time he heard THAT confession! “Say 432 Hail Mary’s! Say 684 Our Father’s!”

  9. LOVED this! Some of my favorite funny stories from growing up happened at church. People are often so tense there that the only way to cope is to laugh ;D
    Emily @The Waiting recently posted..Child LaborMy Profile

    • thanks, Emily — and I agree! the places we’re supposed to be the most quiet are the places I have the hardest time containing my giggles!

  10. at six I would have had nothing to confess. now seven? A whole other story.

    very funny story, Darcy! Now leave that poor girl alone! lol

    • Ha, Beth! Sounds like 7 was your cross-over to the dark side!

  11. Ok This could be me or either of my two children dropping the basket.
    I used to love those car rides. My particular fave was when my son (much to his sister’s and his friend’s horror) revealed they had “the sex talk with the sex lady” that day.
    Me:”Lovely. And what did you learn?”
    Him: “Mostly about those things that stop a mom from being a mom. You know – condiments.”
    Of course – the wonders of relish and ketchup…
    Kelly McKenzie recently posted..In A Blink of an EyeMy Profile

    • That’s so funny, Kelly! What a fabulous new birth control method — “just apply liberal amounts of ketchup and mustard…”

  12. Well my daughter was reciting the Apostles Creed and said, “He was conceited by the Holy Spirit.” But I mean, i would be too.

  13. My friend’s extended family used to go to Midnight mass on Christmas Eve after family cocktails. One year she watched candle wax drip into an unsuspecting woman’s purse in the pew in front of them. Apparently her Dad couldn’t keep his candle up. I am sincere when I say it was my friend’s dad and I really was talking about his candle.

    • omigod, Millie, I just spit out some Nestle Toll House chocolate morsels when I read your last line! (Why am I eating Nestle Toll House chocolate morsels straight from the bag, you ask. No reason. Stop judging me!) Ha!

  14. Paul said:

    Hilarious Darcy! Even though teasing poor Chloe is mean and I hope she gets you back in the future. When I was trucking I arrived back at our terminal in Maine one Sunday morning and the dispatcher, Brenda, was working a half day. I couldn’t go anywhere until the next day (needed trailer repairs) so she invited me to join her and her 3-1/2 year old daughter, Sarah,at her Catholic church that afternoon and then for supper. I enjoy church services so off we went. It was a summer day and the church was hot. Little Sarah was squirming around a bit and Brenda had to tell her to be quiet a number of times. Part way through the sermon, the priest paused for a second to let his words sink in, when Sarah stands up faces her mother with one little hand on her hip and the other pointing at the priest and says in a big voice in a silent church:


    Brenda, embarrassed, shushed her and sat her down but the damage was done – the priest had lost his momentum and the sermon kind of trickled off and ended. Ahh, the words of the innocent.

    • Ha! Love that kid! aAnd what a great question! Her daughter might have been much more entertaining to give the Sermon that day!

  15. Oh! The stories I could tell! I hardly know where to start. My two favorites involve the Middle Kid, who at the time was the Younger Kid.

    A co-worker of mine was getting married and had invited everyone in the office to the wedding, but I was the only white who had accepted. My first husband gave bigotry a bad name, so it was just the two girls and myself. We arrived late, and were seated in the back of the church. I spread a bulletin on the pew, so MK could see what was going on. After looking carefully over the congregation she turned to me and asked, in that voice children reserve for church, “Do you know what?”
    I took a very deep breath, said a silent prayer, and asked, “What?”
    “I’m the only one here with blond hair.”
    The entire congregation, including the minister, burst out laughing.

    About a year later, I took the same child to a Pentecostal service. My dad was an Episcopal priest, so we were NOT strangers to attending church, and we did go to other denominations from time to time. (My mother was Lutheran until the day she died.) However, and I say this without any meanness, this was an entirely different kettle of fish. I understand that if these folks had come to our church, they’d still be waiting for things to start while the rest of us had moved on to coffee hour.

    To start off, we were late because I couldn’t find the place, so I tried to enter as quietly as possible. HA! I was the only woman there in a sleeveless dress, I was the only woman there with short hair, I was the only woman there wearing makeup, the only woman not wearing a hat – and I was the only woman there with the Middle Kid. For the first time in her life, she voluntarily genuflected (usually I had to mash her on top of the head), and I nearly fell over her! So now you have the brazen hussy and her Papist offspring sprawled in the aisle. The child slides into the pew and asks – again with The Voice – if this was a “real church”.
    “They don’t have any kneelers.”
    We had been invited to this service by a customer at the bank where I was working, to celebrate the dedicate of a new sanctuary, and they had a guest singer, plus a band, consisting of a guitarist, piano player and a drummer. Everyone was swaying their hands in the air in a spirit of worship, and MK decided to join the fun by dancing. You would have thought – well, never mind what you would have thought. I put my hand on her shoulder and asked her to please simmer down. “After all, this IS God’s house.” She looked at me in utter consternation. “But. momma, all they’re playing is Hee-Haw music.”

    I put a large donation in the plate by the door and left as quietly as I could.

    • Dying laughing over here! What great stories! Your middle kid is a pistol! So funny!
      I firmly believe that the kid antics that garner the most disapproving glances in Church are the same antics that totally crack God up!
      And I love how kids interpret and assimilate things. My sister’s 3 year old had a habit of taking each tangerine piece and holding it up to the sky, THEN eating it. Every single piece. She couldn’t figure out why he did that — and only with that food. Finally he told her because that’s what “the man in church does.” That’s when she realized he was imitating the priest when he holds the host up to the sky when he’s on the altar! Um…OK, consecrated tangerine slices! Ha!

      • Paul said:

        Ha! Darcy, that’s hilarious! It reminded me of Penny’s (remember, the teacher who was always in trouble?) youngest son William. Somehow at about the age of 3, he developed the habit of pointing and shouting “Hallelujah!” every time he saw a cross. As amusing as this was, it became a bit problematic in an environment full of crosses – i.e. a church. Ha! (“Shhh, shhh William, please stop shouting ‘Hallelujah!'”)

        • That’s so funny! And a 3-year-old enthusiastically shouting “Hallelujah!” – that’s adorable!

  16. Cindy said:

    My older daughter was about 4 and we were visiting her father’s (Catholic) parents. They and her dad were getting ready to go to confession and she started to cry and said she needed to go, too. We asked her why and she said “Because I have corner sins.”

    “Corner sins? What are corner sins?”

    She said, “Those are the bad things I do and you make me stand in the corner.”

    We tried very hard not to laugh and reassured her that she did not need to go for those.

    • omigod, I LOVE this! I have lots of “corner” sins too! ha!

    • thanks, Phil! I bet the priests would love to hear some funny ones! they probably don’t hear “triple homicide” too often! (or so we hope!)