17-Year-Old: “Is Truth-Tellers even a word? Maybe she won’t approve of our using this post title?”
Oh, just get over it! Who really cares what our mom thinks? The whole point is we’re sick of being her blogging subject matter and we’re not gonna take it anymore. So while “Little Miss Menopause” (Geez, I can’t stand that name! It’s a good thing she didn’t start blogging when she was 13, she’d be known as “Little Miss Menstruation!”) takes a writing break (we’ll reveal what she’s really up to, lollygagging around) we took this chance to sneak into her log-in and tell it like it really is. Anyhow, that’s what she gets for making her password be all our birth-weights.
12-Year-Old: Really? We’re gonna tell people everything. Even THAT stuff?
17-Year-Old: Nah, we won’t disclose that. We’ll let her boyfriend spill about how she looks in bowling shoes.
14-Year-Old: I’m digging this whole revenge thing. Remember when she fabricated our entire Disneyland trip and then The Huffington Post went and published it? Like she’d actually ever go on any ride faster than an escalator. Ha! Serves her right for passing off fiction as our family outing. And I’m also doing this to get her back for that time I had lice!
17-Year-Old: Ewww, don’t blame our mom for your own bad hygiene!
14-Year-Old: She didn’t have to write about it.
Quit your arguing. As the firstborn, I’ve given our crime a lot of thought. We need to get in, get out, and get back to not doing our household chores so she won’t be suspicious. That’s precisely why I think writing a list is our most efficient way.
6-Year-Old: Yeah, Mom loves list posts!
Get it through your head — we do not care what Mom likes. This is OUR retribution.
10 Strange Things You’d Never Guess About Little Miss Menopause (ok, maybe you would!)
- Her hair doesn’t always have that big, wild, 80’s windblown look. When she rides in a convertible with the top town, it finally looks normal.
- She always runs the faucet full blast, coughs loudly, or stamps her feet so nobody can hear her using the bathroom.
- She’s convinced there’s someone around who is intent on listening to her peeing.
- She marks a line on the ice-cream carton, trying to catch our babysitter in the act.
- She’s actually the one who binge eats the Rocky Road.
- She has a temper and once threw her perfume against the wall, which broke the glass and splattered/spattered Chanel No. 5 all over our furniture. When she goes out fancy, she has to roll around on our couch to smell nice.
- She’s obsessed with the differences between the words “splattered” and “spattered.”
- Before she writes an actual blog post, she scribbles notes on her checkbook cover, doodles on a tissue box, and writes nonsensical things on the family calendar. Later, when she can’t read her own writing, she’ll walk around the house asking us, “Can you make out what it says on this old napkin?”
- She’ll flirt with magicians so they’ll divulge their secrets because she can’t stand not knowing something.
- Her idea of flirting is just plain odd because she tries to wink one eye but instead it just looks like. . .
Boyfriend: Hey, it worked on me. And what are you kids doing on your mother’s computer anyhow?
17-Year-Old: She hardly writes anymore, so we’re hijacking her blog and setting her readers straight.
Boyfriend: But your mom’ll be absolutely furious!
6-Year-Old: Yay! She’ll throw her perfume bottle again!
Boyfriend: Can I have a turn? I’d love to conspire with you six kids against your mother so maybe you all will finally accept me! I’ll do “Two Truths & A Lie.” Your mother loves that game.
For the last time, we DO NOT CARE what our mom thinks! Go crazy, man.
Two Truths & A Lie
- When we eat out in restaurants, Stephanie always asks for everything to be served “on the side,” so now they bring out her order in a Bento Box. Even when it’s pizza.
- Stephanie parades naked around her home unabashedly 24/7 but always keeps her hands tightly hidden inside thick gloves. God, I’d give anything to get a glimpse of those fingernails of hers.
- Stephanie loves to pretend someone else is writing her blog when it’s actually just really her. She gets the biggest thrill thinking she can pull one over on her readers. In fact, she doesn’t even have a 6-year-old kid.
6-Year-Old: Hurry up and log out now! I think Mom’s coming in here. I don’t hear her stupid Days of Our Lives soap opera blaring on the television anymore!
That’s not her soap opera, silly! She’s reading her writing aloud again, doing different voices for each character because some movie script guru told her to do that when she went to her “How to Write a Screenplay” conference.
Boyfriend: Is that where she really was? She told me you guys were at Disneyland and one of you had lice and . . . That does it! I’m through with all this nonsense. I’m posting a picture of how she looks in bowling shoes. In fact of all of you scoundrels. I just don’t care anymore. Such a game-playing family I got mixed up with….
Ex-Husband: Hello! I’m actually the one writing this whole thing. And believe me, this is just the tip of the iceberg. Do you like it? Maybe I’ll come back again tomorrow because The real Little Miss Menopause is trying to earn some money writing stuff like this OVER HERE.