In Case of Fire, Flood, or Zombies, Which PRIZED POSSESSION Would You Save?

Quick!  Zombies are coming!  Tornado's headed to your house!  Flames are leaping, locusts are swarming!  What's the 1 ridiculous THING you save? #funny #disaster #zombies #cooking #humor

So then…the news article clearly states that, in case of emergency, we should flee the house ONLY with our humans and pets – NO material possessions.

Oh, sure, that sounds reasonable. But who’re we kiddin’ here? We all know we’re going to grab at least ONE prized possession.

So what’s it going to be for you?

Perhaps something SENTIMENTAL – like that hand-made quilt your great-grandmother crocheted at that Siberian refugee camp?

Or something SIGNIFICANT – like that coveted first place trophy you won in the state skiing tournament after recuperating from a nasty bout of scurvy?

Or something SPECIAL – like that rare first edition book you bought to celebrate making your first million after working your way through college as a stripper?

For me, it’s this bowl.

In Case - Bowl 429

This Orange Bowl.

This Orange Bowl is the most special, sentimental, significant material possession I own.

In case of fire, flood, or earthquake, I’m seizing the family, the photos, and this bowl.


Because I love this bowl. It’s irreplaceable.

There’s no other bowl in the world like it – and believe me, I’ve looked.

(Shhh, shhh, Orange Bowl, don’t get jealous – I’m not TRYING to replace you – I’m just checking out back-ups in case you meet a (sob) untimely demise.)

I bought this bowl about 83 million years ago from Tupperware, which has long-since discontinued it. And no other company makes one JUST like it.

Other bowls are too thin/too small/too big – or the shape is wrong – or they scoot around when you’re using the electric mixer.

My Orange Bowl is made of a strong plastic – thick and sturdy – with just the right heft to it. It is substantial. (If my bowl were an actress, it would be Meryl Streep. No Kristen Stewarts or Megan Foxes here. Just solid, outstanding, substantial Meryl Streep.)

I’m a baker (not by trade, just by passion) — so this bowl cradles all the ingredients for my cookies, cakes, brownies, and pies.

In Case - Recipe 429

It’s just the right size, height, and diameter for all my recipes.

It’s perfect for all my whisking & electric-mixing & batter-taste-testing!

It’s an irrefutable fact that recipes prepared in my other bowls simply DO NOT TASTE AS DELICIOUS as when they’re prepared in my ORANGE BOWL.

It also doubles as a mashed potato mashing bowl.

In Case - Size 429

And really, how more sentimental can you get than an item that holds the warm, loving memories of baked goods and mashed potatoes?

I guard this bowl religiously. It’s endured 47 million moves from state to state, home to home. It even survived a nasty altercation with an overly-aggressive scorching hot pot that left a mark on my poor baby.  It was clearly the pot’s fault.

In Case - Mark on Bowl with Arrows Final 429

Years ago, when one of the kids was very sick, David hastily grabbed the Orange Bowl from the cabinet to serve as a vomit-catcher.


As he approached the child, I slow-motion-screamed “Nooooooooo!” as I slow-motion-ran toward him to knock the bowl from his hands!

“There are basins for vomit! BASINS! They’re under the sink! Not my bowl! Not my ORANGE BOOOOOOOOOWL!”

Both child and husband looked at me like I’d lost all sense of priority.

I cared not.

They took the basin — and I scuttled to the other room, cradling that Orange Bowl, caressing it and whispering, “My precious, my precious.”

So when the flames leap to the house – or the earth begins to shake – or the Apocalyptic Zombies shuffle toward our brains, I’ll grab my family, my photos, and my Orange Bowl.

What will YOU grab?

OK, out with it. I know you have that one thing, as inconsequential as it might seem to everyone else – you just gotta have it!

My Mom recently offered a $20 reward to anyone who could find her 99₵ pickle jar opener she lost in the move because IT IS THE ONLY EFFECTIVE PICKLE JAR OPENER IN THE ENTIRE WORLD! She went on and on about it for days!

We’d be unpacking and say things like, “Hey, here’s the box with Grammy’s silver!” “Oh, look, Dad’s Air Force medals.” “Here are the albums of baby pics of your five kids!”

And she’d say, “What about my pickle jar opener? Did you find that yet? I really need that pickle jar opener.”

I was like, “Geez, Mom, calm down, how MANY pickle jars are you OPENING anyway?”

Apparently even ONE without that spectacular thin little rubber mat pickle jar opener is ONE TOO MANY. Thank God, my niece found it at the bottom of a closet and the world has been restored to order.

So friends, we know in times of catastrophe, of course you’ll save your kids, pets, plants, loved ones, blah, blah, blah –

But what else do you hope to save? What’s YOUR Orange Bowl or YOUR Pickle Jar Opener?

— Darcy Perdu

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(Quick! The Zombies are coming! The tornado is whipping toward your house! Flames are leaping, locusts are swarming! What do YOU grab?)

The Shitastrophy

So excited that my friend Alyson who writes the hilarious blog The Shitastrophy is posting one of my stories on her site today!  So if you pop over there to read my post, An Awkward Intercourse, please stick around to read some of Alyson’s funny posts like:

The Brazilian Wax from Hell

Top Stupid Boy Names

Check her out to see why her life is just one hilarious Shitastrophy after the next!

Family Dinner Fiasco: Comedy AND Tragedy in 3 Short Funny Acts

So then…I’m literally so excited about this lasagna I’m making, I text a photo to show the family how amazing dinner’s going to be!

Just as I slide my HOMEMADE lasagna out, it shatters in a million pieces and triggers a family fiasco! #funny #dinner #lasagna #humor

LOOK! Warm and delicious homemade food! Yahoo!

Everyone has a generous helping and agrees it’s scrumptious — and I’m even more excited that we’ll have leftovers for the next night! Double Yahoo! No cooking! Just heating up! I’m a fabulous heater-upper!

So the next night, I’m in my home office when my daughter Chloe, age 15, texts me from the dining room to ask, “Will you please rub my back while I’m doing homework?”

Now before you accuse me of potentially spoiling my daughter, I can assure you, she’s ALREADY spoiled! That train left the station a long time ago, my friends. As I’ve mentioned, I’d be a much better mother if I had 6 kids like my pal, but I only have 2, so I spoil them 3 times as much.

Besides, Chloe may be a bit spoiled, but she’s also pretty awesome, loving, funny, smart, and helpful.

And she handles her academic career completely on her own – and makes A’s – so if you give me a choice between actually helping her DO the Chemistry homework vs. just rubbing her back a few minutes while SHE does the Chemistry homework – I think you can guess what this mama’d rather do.

So I text “Sure,” then walk through the kitchen, figuring I’ll take the luscious lasagna out of the fridge on my way to the dining room.

But just as I pull the tray out, it pings the side of the fridge, DROPS



Just as I slide my HOMEMADE lasagna out, it shatters in a million pieces and triggers a family fiasco! #funny #dinner #lasagna #humor

I’m devastated!

I don’t know what’s more distressing:

The loss of our delicious home-cooked meal –
The loss of my favorite glass serving dish –
The marks on my cherished wood floor –
The fact I now have to SWEEP.

I glance desperately at the lasagna on the ground. 5 second rule? Can I just scoop it up quickly? “Hey, family, just eat around the glass shards!”

I huff and puff, stomping off to retrieve the broom and dustpan – colorful profanities spewing in my wake.

Just as I round the corner back into the kitchen — I hear a click, a giggle, and the tiny pitter-patter of footsteps fleeing the scene.

“CHLOE! Did you just take a PICTURE of my floor lasagna!?!?!”

From the other room: *Giggle* “No, Mom, what’re you talking about?”

“CHLOE! Are you texting and Tweeting and Instagramming this!?!”

From the other room: *Snort Giggle* “No! Of course not!”


From the other room: *Muffled laughter* “I know, I know. Do you need any *laugh* help?”

“NO! Just stay there. You’ll just cut up your feet and then I’ll have to take you to the hospital!” I say, in my Angry Martyr voice. Far better for me to clean this up myself — and make everyone else feel guilty about it.

Of course, I DO see the humor in it, so naturally, I snap a pic and post it on Facebook to generate some sympathy. Several people post compassionate words and similar mishaps — and my cyber-buddy Don Re posts, “The lasagna looks a bit dry anyway. Is that helpful?” And perversely enough, that DOES make me feel better.

But now I have nothing to serve for dinner and I want someone to deliver some GOTT-DAMN homemade lasagna to my front door!

Just then I get a text from Chloe saying, “Um…about that back rub…?”

I text back, “Too soon! Give me a minute to mourn, for God’s sake!”

So she texts me this:

Just as I slide my HOMEMADE lasagna out, it shatters in a million pieces and triggers a family fiasco! #funny #dinner #card #humor

What a wise ass.

I head to the kitchen and holler, “I don’t have time for backrubs! Now I have to MAKE DINNER!”

We don’t have much in the way of ingredients, so I whip this together:

Just as I slide my HOMEMADE lasagna out, it shatters in a million pieces and triggers a family fiasco! #funny #dinner #Elvis #humor

Inspired Brilliance – or a Cry for Help?

(I actually ate this the other day and IT.WAS.DEEE-LICIOUS.)

I’m definitely making these for my Dinner with Elvis in the After Life. I’ll be like, “Look, El, peanut butter and banana sandwiches are so 1969. The kids today are rockin’ it with Candy Corn.” I know he’ll dig it.

Meanwhile, the mere mortals down here are none too impressed.

So I stuff some ham and cheese in those little crescent rolls and call it a day.

Just as I slide my HOMEMADE lasagna out, it shatters in a million pieces and triggers a family fiasco! #funny #dinner #rolls #humor

As for Mama — this is MY dinner:

Just as I slide my HOMEMADE lasagna out, it shatters in a million pieces and triggers a family fiasco! #funny #dinner #icecream #humor

And well-deserved, if I do say so myself.

— Darcy Perdu
(She of many skills, but much maligned for her comical cooking incompetence.)

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(Any kitchen mishaps to make me feel better about mine? What else pairs nicely with peanut butter? What dishes will you cook with YOUR fave celebs & historical figures in the After Life?)

Just as I slide my HOMEMADE lasagna out, it shatters in a million pieces and triggers a family fiasco! #funny #dinner #comedy #tragedy #humor

Be VERY Careful What You Ask Your Teen Daughter

Be Very Careful What You Ask Your Teen Daughter!  #funny #cook #crockpot #turkey #humor #parenting

So then…I take a bite of Pralines & Cream at our little neighborhood Baskin-Robbins shop and ask my daughter Chloe, age 13, “So what do you think I should cook for dinner when the Donnellys come over Saturday?”

She nearly chokes on her Oreo 31 Below.

I shoot her a sharp glance.

She tries to recover quickly.

She loves me dearly but knows that cooking is not my forte.

“Um…let’s see,” she stalls. “There are lots of things you could make…um…”

“Well, what do you like that I cook?” I ask.

“Oh, I love your cookies and cakes and brownies and—”

“No, not what I bake. What I cook. What do you like that I cook?

She pales.

To be fair, my cooking repertoire IS fairly limited. I’m a woman of many talents, gifts, and skills (FAR too many to detail here) – but cooking’s not one of them. In fact, the main reason I’m asking her opinion is that I’m a bit anxious about cooking for the Donnelly family (or anyone, for that matter.) For potlucks, I always bake dessert. For my own dinner parties, I often order in or even (gasp) cater for the special occasions!

I’ve long envied the women who can whip up a delicious meal on a moment’s notice with the ingredients already in their pantry and fridge. I could try that – but it’d need to be meal that includes the typical staples in my house (Nestles chocolate morsels, mayonnaise, peanut butter, and delicious cheeses.)

My other cooking issue is that I have a fanatical fear of undercooking the meat. It probably stems from the first turkey I ever tried to cook — it simply WOULD.NOT.COOK. It was in that oven for hours and hours and hours – and no matter what, it never fully cooked. Honestly, it was traumatizing! The next year, I even ordered a PRE-COOKED turkey so all I had to do was heat it up — and it STILL didn’t cook through! Ever since then, I ensure we invite cooking relatives to our house for Thanksgiving — or invite ourselves to their homes. We’re working our way across America for each Thanksgiving and will probably be at your home soon.

So this is why I always order steaks/burgers/fish/etc well done at restaurants. And this is why I started crock-potting. Because if you put something in there at 8 am, it’s usually cooked through by 6 pm. In fact, some might say a little TOO cooked through. (And to them I say, “Well, fine, more for me, my friend. Help yo’self to the peanut butter and delicious cheeses.”)

Actually I make a fabulous tuna casserole.

My daughter Chloe abhors tuna.

She ate it maybe ONE time when she was about 5 – and to this day, anytime she can’t readily identify what I serve her, she’ll suspiciously ask me, “Is this tuna?

“No!” I’ll say. She’ll poke it a bit, and ask plaintively, “Are you sure it’s not tuna?” As if I were serving her potentially poisonous pufferfish!

Honestly, I’ve never served that child tuna again since she was 5 – but she asks me at least once a month, with an accusatory tone, “Is this tuna?”

Add to this that Chloe’s a picky eater, so there isn’t much that she likes anyway. (Of course, her being a picky eater MIGHT be related to my culinary malfeasance…)

So you can see that this innocent conversation about what to serve the Donnellys on Saturday is a virtual minefield that Chloe’s trying to tiptoe through, so as not to offend my feelings – or God forbid, trigger a tuna dish.

“Well,” she says, “I like your porkchops.” (crock pot recipe)

“Yes, go on.”

“Um, I like your French Dip beef.” (crock pot recipe)

“And what else?” I ask.

“Um, your green bean casserole?”

“What!? You never eat my green bean casserole!” I say.

“Yeah, but I’ve heard it’s really good!” she says brightly.

“From whom?” I ask skeptically.

“From you!” she says.

“Oh, for God’s sake. Seriously? After all these years, that’s all you can come up with?” I ask.

“Well, I was gonna say, ‘You open a mean can of corn,’ but I didn’t want to offend.”

I bust out laughing. “Chloe!”

“Or ‘you order Honeybaked Ham well,’” she offers.

We both guffaw.

She’s right, of course. And she does love her some corn (as evidenced in the Embarrassing Book Club Incident)

We finish our ice cream and finalize the menu for Saturday:

crockpot chicken,
green bean casserole,
canned corn –
and 3 – count ‘em, 3 – scrumptious homemade baked desserts!
Get ready, Donnellys, you’re in for a treat!

— Darcy Perdu

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(Is your child terrified of tuna? Or some other innocuous food? Are you a culinary master — or more of a baker like me? Can we come to your house for Thanksgiving this year?)

Seriously, Have You MET Me?

So then…I open an email from one of my older relatives, a sweet Southern woman, who is sharing a video clip with her friends and family.

The video shows that if you boil a large pot of potatoes, and fill the pot with ice, then their skins will peel off almost effortlessly.

It’s sweet of her to share this info — and I imagine that she and her Southern friends are often faced with the challenge of efficiently peeling multitudes of potatoes for their potato salads and mashed potatoes and such.

But when she sends things like this to me, (who is challenged in ALL things cooking-related), I wonder, “Has she met me? Doesn’t she know that PF Chang’s never asks me to peel potatoes when I pick up dinner?”

— Darcy Perdu

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(Do you have well-meaning relatives too? Are you a Whiz in the kitchen — or a Genius at take-out? Or a Fabulous Restaurant Patron? Share some Comments or Tips!)

Funny - Seriously - Have You MET Me