Category Archives: Humor

Boo! (Or is it Boo Hoo?)

watermelonThere was always a lot of crying around our home come Halloween night. I come from a long line of Harrowing Halloween Haters, so my disdain is justifiably genetic.

Two weeks in advance, my own mother would buy the mandatory bag of Hershey’s fun size bars only to partake in a little too much fun. She would then need to replenish the bag before All Hallows’ Eve arrived. Six different times. When we’d run out of candy by 7 p.m. on the night of the actual festivities, mom simply tacked a sign on our front door stating, “At store buying Snickers.” And then another notice beneath it, “Please don’t egg our house … haven’t you heard of binge eating?”

Now that I have children of my own, there’s always the same conversation regarding this holiday and it always goes off in some bizarre tangent.  Listen . . .

Daughter: Can we decorate the outside of our house for the holiday?

Me: Why certainly.

Feeling organized, I proceed to put up exactly one pumpkin, one gobble/gobble turkey, and a token Santa Claus. Why not? Stores do it.

Daughter: But we wanted scary and evil looking things on the front door.

Me:  Sorry, Halloween was originally a Paganist celebration.  We’re not into Pagans.

Youngest Son: But I love Madagascar and Happy Feet! They’re so cute when they waddle their black and white bodies.

Huh??

And don’t get me started on overtly sexy costumes. Why does a wicked witch need garter belts? To hold up her black lace fishnet stockings, of course. I think the holiday greeting needs to be changed to “Trick-or-Discreet!”

We're DEFINITELY not in Kansas anymore.

We’re DEFINITELY not in Kansas anymore.

Costumes are also quite costly. I’m as creative as the next Martha, but shelling out $120 at Party City for a cowgirl outfit (with six-inch stiletto heeled boots, mind you!) or spending major money at Michaels craft store for supplies to make an iPhone costume is ridiculous. Anyone can do that. As far as I’m concerned, the real “Trick” in “Trick or Treating” is convincing your child they already own a fantastic costume. In their closet. And it’s free.

Last year, I had my children shove heavy textbooks inside their backpacks, announcing they were dressed-up as Straight-A Students. This season I’m trying a different tactic.

Me: Hey son, wear your black and white striped shirt to the party and be a referee. And as for you sweet girl, remember that white flower-girl dress? You’ll be a perfect Angel.

Daughter: (stamping feet) I want an Elsa costume from Frozen and I want it now.

Me: Oh good, it’s settled. You’ll go as Veruca Salt from Willy Wonka, you spoiled little brat!

As for me?  My lovely sister-in-law throws an annual (and elaborate!) costume party, refusing to let me in if I just wear a tee shirt proclaiming, “This IS my costume.” She insists on something different each and every year. Seven years ago, I bought a frilly (and versatile) little pink dress and so far I’ve been a little toddler girl holding a lollypop, Little Miss Muffet holding a tuffet, Little Bo Peep holding a sheep (alright a stuffed lamb) BUT then I gave it new life by adding a veil and calling myself a child bride! The following year, I stuck a pillow in my abdomen and became a pregnant child bride. This year I’m wearing red contact lenses and I’ll be the Evil Little Girl who comes out of elevators. I love repurposing.

It helps to sit next to a wolf when you're trying to be Little Miss Muffet.

It helps to sit next to a wolf when you’re trying to be Little Bo Peep.

What a difference a veil can make - - instant Child Bride!

What a difference a veil can make – – instant Child Bride!

But next year (In keeping with my true feelings for Halloween) I’m going as a mash-up of Oscar the Grouch, The Grinch and uh….Gretel.  Why Gretel? Because I love alliteration and it works with my “Gr” theme.  But I’ll be a sultry, sexy Gretel with mini skirted, low cut bodice rags.  Watch out Hansel!

Happy Halloween.  What’s been your most creative costume?

Is There A Doctor In The House? And Someone Else??

images (7)Since my boyfriend is in the medical field, he’s kindly brought back making house calls when his patients are in too much pain to come to his office. I decided this made perfect sense and it should be the wave of the future by ALL professionals. Wouldn’t it be great to never have to leave your home? Here are my experiences from a day last week when I tested the waters. You can certainly benefit by knowing what worked and what backfired.

HAIRSTYLIST – – I called my beautician to tell her I was having such a bad hair day that I couldn’t leave home and then inquired whether she would come to me to work her scissors magic? After a long pause she asked about electrical outlets (was she plotting to shave my head as punishment?) and if I had a basin with a long sprayer hose? We decided I would wash my own hair in the shower prior to her arrival rather than dunking my head in the kitchen sink with the sticky maple syrup dishes from our pancake breakfast. But she soon became extra snippy in my living room, taking off three more inches than I requested, blaming it on my red walls and then I had to vacuum my own hair off my purple couch (yes red walls, purple couch – – my interior decorator does NOT make house calls!) plus I had to tip this very put-out woman extra $$ because my cat triggered her asthma. Other than that, it wasn’t too terribly harried (no pun intended) of an experience.

DENTIST — I explained to the receptionist I had a phobia with rinsing and spitting away from the privacy of my own sink and would the DDS consider making a house call just this once? She said since Dr. Barry lived in my neighborhood he would stop by after his morning run. When I opened the door, my dentist stood panting and perspiring in a jogging suit, carrying a portable aquarium and a large plaque (the kind you hang over a fireplace mantle, not the kind that Crest toothpaste prevents), which read, “The Tooth Will Set You Free!” He eyed my ex-husband’s tool kit, (particularly his power drill) with a little too much lust before getting down to business filling my cavity while reclining (him, not me) in an easy chair in my den. All in all, things went fairly well, but he really set my teeth on edge when he shouted, “There’s no such thing as a tooth fairy, there’s just me — Dr. Barry!” to my youngest daughter as he slammed out the front door. Sheesh.

HOUSE CLEANER – – When I called Merry Maids to ask if they would come to me, they sounded rather mad, not merry. It turns out most of their clients transport their homes to them for a good scrubbing. Finally a disheveled woman wearing a stained apron (didn’t inspire a lot of confidence) turned up on my doorstep, insisting on using my broom, my mop, and finally my vacuum (which was full of my hair from the earlier beautician) and then demanded I fix her a BLT sandwich on her lunch break. I’ve decided that next time we’ll meet halfway in someone else’s place of residence.

BANKER — Though he thought it was quite unconventional, the manager at my local branch came to my door very cooperatively — albeit a bit mixed up regarding how this whole thing should work.  First I had to break a hundred dollar bill for him from the wallet in my purse.  Then I had to take a hammer to my youngest’s piggy bank so he could roll up some quarters. And lastly he asked if he could stash his Rolex watch in my jewelry box for safekeeping?  He left saying it was a pleasure doing business with me, without even so much as offering me a lollypop. 

OB/GYN – Whatever excuse could I come up with to justify not going to my gynecologist’s office? I decided on confessing that all my Victoria’s Secret panties were in the laundry . . . and they bought it! When Dr. Spanky efficiently arrived, he shouted at me to boil some water fast! Was a baby being born? Turns out he just wanted a cup of tea. He then requested two wire coat hangers, which he quickly twisted into makeshift stirrups just a little too adeptly. This guy was slick – – he even brought his own exam table roll of wax paper, which made the appropriate amount of crinkly noise when he covered the nice soft flannel sheets on my bed. I wasn’t surprised when he issued those typical orders – – “Scoot your bottom down please. Just a little more. Stop! That’s too much. You almost fell into your dirty clothes hamper!” However, I was slightly taken aback when he requested I bring him a can-opener for use as a speculum.exam table

PLUMBER: An online ad said “We now make house calls.” I had to call them up and ask what other calls a plumber could possibly make? They told me “Houseboat calls!” If a sailor has a leaky ship, they’ve got far bigger problems than a clogged toilet!

CONCLUSION– With all these professionals coming into my home, the last thing I wanted to hear was my doorbell ringing and “Avon Calling!” cheerfully shouted from my front stoop. That did it! I was going stir crazy cooped up inside these four walls and needed to get out into the big, exciting world ASAP. I called my boyfriend excitedly to confirm our date night was still on for dinner out, followed by the The Phantom of The Opera at the theatre downtown.

“Are you serious, Stephanie?” he asked wearily. “I’m exhausted from all the house calls I’ve made today. All I want to do is bring in Chinese and watch a movie in your cozy living room.”

I knew it.  House Call Dating.  What’s next?!

How NOT To Paint Your Home in just 14 Easy Steps!

  1. 6a00d83451cb9a69e2010536fc7c1c970bNotice that your walls in the living room seem just a tad dirty . . . rather than scrubbing them, think that a fresh coat of paint will be much easier. Gray is very fashionable these days. Briefly wonder if it’s spelled gray or grey? Remind yourself you were a math major and it doesn’t matter. Yes, gray/grey paint is the answer, even though you’ve forgotten the question.
  2. Go to the home improvement store and look at swatches. Thousands of little colored paper strips. Hold each one up to the light and ask yourself, “Is this a true gray? Or might it have a little lavender hue to it?” Take the professional’s advice and purchase sample cans of your top five favorites to try in your actual home.
  3. Think again about washing your walls. Actually get the cleanser and rags out.
  4. Decide painting is definitely the easier way to go. Paint about fifty brush strokes in several areas of the house and step back to survey your work. Get confused. Nod your head as you now understand how the author of “Fifty Shades of Gray” became a billionaire simply because she once had filthy walls.
  5. Look at the freshly painted areas after sundown with the lamps on in your home and feel a little spooked. These cannot possibly be the same colors you painted on your walls just a mere four hours earlier in daylight, can they? Some look green tinged, some look blue tinged and you could swear one has turned an ominous dark brown totally all by itself. Recall the Poltergeist film and any Stephen King movies you’ve ever watched.
  6. Visibly shaken, telephone an interior decorator to come over for an emergency consultation. Listen to her explain that different grays can have warm and cool undertones — so if you’re not sure which way you want to proceed, why don’t you try greige? Give a nervous little giggle as she explains greige is a special combination of gray and beige that’s sweeping the nation.
  7. Drag out the box of your children’s Crayola crayons and fondly remember burnt sienna, lemon yellow, and forest green. Ahhh, much simpler times.
  8. Pour the decorator a nice glass of iced-tea as she mentions giving you a proposal. Feel flattered she likes you enough to want to set a date, but shouldn’t you discuss religion and children?
  9. After she leaves, stare at your walls again and vow they won’t win. Impulsively paint your entire living room stainless steel, tinfoil, charcoal graphite London fog gray instead of exercising at the gym. There! The walls are clean. And gray. Sort of. But the carpet (which used to be a nice, neutral taupe) now looks earth-toned. What is earth-toned anyhow? Sounds serious. Go to a flooring store.
  10. When one of the salespeople asks if you’ve considered berber with a loop, respond, “Yes, when I drink bourbon, I get loopy.” Notice your interior decorator has come into the store and is scowling at you conversing with these carpet people, as if you’ve committed adultery.
  11. Stealthily purchase seven (grayish) shaggy area rugs (instead of wall-to-wall carpeting) and race home to remedy the situation. Become aware that your dining room table now completely clashes with the new paint and throw-rugs. Besides the chairs are quite old, shabby, and too traditional. Like your husband. Google “modern, non-traditional dining room table sets” and get a little aroused when you find this;FullSizeRender (17)
  12. Ask your husband if he’d like to become a swinger with you? Feel disappointed when he tells you he’d prefer just the two of you sleeping in your own bed because something sounds a little fishy, so order this:
  13. FullSizeRender (15)Climb into your unique new bed but don’t even think about saying, “Not tonight dear, I’ve got a haddock.”
  14. The next morning, slip into your new bathtub, (which the interior decorator talked you into because she could CLEARLY see you have the perfect body to show it off!) FullSizeRender (16)— and relax, congratulating yourself on revitalizing your marriage. Until you notice that the walls in the bathroom seem just a tad dirty . . .
  • Inspired by true events and the daily word prompt               https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/paint/         
  • Here are scenes from my real house below. Soon I won’t need to hire anyone to paint.  It will be “Patchwork Gray” everywhere. 

    “Where’s Cristian Grey? He’s the shade I want tonight!”

Here’s Why You Should Never Google a Headache!

At least the internet weighs much less!

At least the internet weighs much less!

I can never decide which I should write first — my obituary, my will, or my eulogy — after I google my current physical symptoms.  If you relate at all to that statement, please visit my short piece on the topic. I would be grateful for any comments left there as well because this is a new writing job for me and it’s hard to be funny about a wrist device that monitors breathing. And now my plug – – CLICK HERE to see my latest piece for this company called SPIRE, a great way to relax and de-stress! Okay, un-plugging now. . .

Thank you,

Little Miss Menopause

10 Practical (Tactical!) Jokes To Play On Male Folks!

kickurteacher_Large

From time to time Little Miss Menopause gets accused of having a blog so tame that it purrs like a kitten instead of growling like a tiger. Therefore if you’re under 18 or easily offended, please skip today’s “wild” post because I’m leaving the pet shop behind and taking a trip to the zoo!

Ladies, do you have a bit of a naughty side that wants to unleash itself on other occasions besides April Fools day? Or maybe you have an anniversary coming up and what do you get a guy who has everything? (Yes, if he’s got you, you better believe he wants for nothing!) This is where that old adage, “the best things in life are free” comes in…Making Memories.

An R-rated practical joke is an experience he won’t soon forget. So forget about gluing quarters to sidewalks and shorting the sheets in your bed — I’m talking sexy enough that the two of you will be reminiscing years from now, while sitting on the front porch in His & Her rockers. (Future Joke Hint: You can also put wheels on those chairs so you’ll always rock n’ roll together!)

Here are ten Spranks (Sex + Pranks, and yes I just made that up!) to liven up your relationship in a way that he’ll find delightfully mischievous.

10 Creative Spranks For Unsuspecting Males

1. While eating together, start to really enjoy your food. C’mon and give Meg Ryan a run for her money.meg ryan

2. Tell him you have a confession: before you met him, you were an adult film star who used a different name. When he begs to know what sexy pseudonym you were called, give him that old formula combining your pet’s name and the first street you lived on. (I was “Oreo Maple Lane.”)

3. Everything is rushed today: drive-thru banking, high speed Internet, life hacks and of course, fast food. Welcome him to Sex Express. “Home of the Quickie!” Wear a counter employee’s paper hat, have a napkin dispenser on the nightstand for messy parts, condoms mixed with ketchup packets and a menu listing the combo services. Don’t forget to get a bikini wax shaped like a Big Mac.

4. Your new book was finally published. Won’t he be thrilled to see what you’ve authored? Leave a copy lying around the living room where he knows your girlfriends will see it . . .

Forget gluing quarters to sidewalks and shorting the sheets. Here are ten sexy pranks to get you started with making the 1st day of April just a bit spicier!

5. Make up an expensive receipt for a home repair from an appliance guy or your handyman. What broke? Your vibrator, of course. (Bonus points for red stamping “After hours emergency house call” on the envelope.)

6. Leave the Internet open to a website about bondage & discipline and his necktie on your pillow. Act properly flustered when confronted.

7. Tell him you’ve taken up ceramics and rent a potter’s wheel. When you sit down with messy clay hands, have the song “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers playing in the background. He’ll see Ghosts for years.

8. Accidentally call him by another woman’s name during the throes of climax and see if that excites him. Make sure it’s not your mother’s.

9. In the morning, text him graphic details and plenty of high praise about how amazing he was in the middle of the night. See how long it takes him to realize you were never together last evening.

10. And lastly, if you’re just too shy to play these jokes out of the blue, then go ahead and wait for that infamous 1st day of the fourth month of the year before you do the following: Deliberately pile up his saw, screwdriver, wrench, and hammer while telling him you’re missing your favorite thing from the collection—then slowly unzip his pants and whisper, “Happy April Tool’s Day.”

Be brave girlfriend and use your imagination — I guarantee any of the above will leave a ferocious impression and might even get you a date with a handsome lion-tamer.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/joke/

And if you want to see one of the ways I make ends meet, check out the new blog I write for Spire (a fun company that manufactures a breathing monitor for your wrist!) right HERE.

Reincarnation Realization!

no reincarnationMany people believe in reincarnation, even taking things a step further by claiming that the same individuals go round and round in groups, staying bonded together for the duration of many lifetimes. I just finished reading the book Many Lives, Many Masters by Dr. Brian Weiss which also confirms that souls travel as a clan to the other side and back again, making sure to stay in the same family. But I have to wonder if they take turns being the black sheep.

Joking aside, apparently they do change up their relationships with each other — even their genders. And hold onto your hat for this next one — they can change species too!

So, are you getting this? This means you and your spouse may have been brother and sister or a parent and child in a previous life!  After realizing all the possibilities, I incredulously put down Dr. Weiss’ book to carefully scrutinize my own family members with brand new (and suspicious!) eyes.

My eldest girl DOES slightly resemble my beloved grandmother who was always so kind and gentle to me. Could it just be their shared DNA or did my grandma actually return as my own daughter so we’d stay connected? It’s definitely not good for me, but all these years I’ve been mourning her death.

I peek into my daughter’s room to observe her sleeping, tangled up in her blankets. (Is that you, Nana?) I lean over and cheerfully whisper into her ear, “Good morning!”

“It’s definitely NOT good morning mourning for me!” she retorts. I freeze. Wow. Just wow. That is utterly amazing! Of course this may have something to do with her not being a morning person.

“I miss homemade chicken noodle soup,” I continue hopefully. “How about you make a pot today?”

“Go away! It’s Sunday so I get to sleep in! Cook your own stupid soup!” my daughter shouts, throwing a pillow at my head. I guess that could be considered borderline nurturing.

After a few more hours pass, I have another idea. Nana loved to knit and even made me a few special pieces I’ve kept to this day.

“What do you think of this sweater?” I ask as my daughter combs her long auburn hair. Nana had reddish hair too! I look into her eyes for any sign of recognition.

“Oh no, you don’t. You’re not handing that ugly thing down to me. If you want to wear old-fashioned stuff like that, that’s your business. But I recommend putting it in your next garage sale!” Okay, so she’s not my elderly, sweet Nana – she’s just a 17-year-old spoiled, ungrateful brat.

Moving on to the more fascinating concept of species switcheroos, I stare at my parrot and coo, “Does Auntie Pauline wanna cracker??” as the bird swings on his little trapeze and tilts his head curiously at me. Or even better . . . maybe my ex-husband is actually my long lost childhood dog named Elvis? After all, he’s always hounding me and occasionally he’ll wear blue suede shoes.

But then something even stranger happens. I loan the book to my sister who somehow becomes convinced that her first husband Jeffrey, a drunk who died of liver disease, has come back as my youngest son.

“That’s absurd,” I tell her on the phone. “Hold on a sec, the kids are arguing over who gets to wear an old sheet for Halloween.”

Me:  C’mon, you can be a mummy. Let your siblings be Ghosts.

Son:  But I’ll miss all the boos!

My Sister: (shouting from inside my cellphone) “Go back to Alcoholics Anonymous, Jeffrey!”

Maybe there really is something to all this reincarnation stuff after all.

So what about me?? Who was I before I was me? I definitely hope I wasn’t any of our crazy relatives that I’ve heard about through the years. Maybe there are other possibilities? I consult the index of the book and find a section called, “Celebrities who come back as ordinary people.” That’s it….I’ve always known that diamonds ARE a girl’s best friend.

When my ex-husband comes to the door to pick up our kids, I swivel my hips and breathily sing, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President!” His bewildered reaction? “Uh…. way to go, Marilyn.”

“Thanks, Elvis!” I respond. Then he howls and scratches his fleas.

Do you believe in reincarnation? If so, do you have any proof?

Review of Me & You??

reviewsA long time ago the only people writing reviews were movie and restaurant critics. Ever notice how many evaluations you (the average consumer) might compose today? I’m not just talking about the many products you order online. I mean every aspect of the service industry (beauticians, car mechanics, Uber-drivers, realtors, dry-cleaners, banks, pet-groomers) as well as professionals like doctors, dentists, attorneys, and psychiatrists.

It’s reached the point that I expect to see Hookers given 4 stars on Yelp and I will rate the following people, just like this:

BEST FRIENDS **

I met Tiffany in high school where we’d have giggle-fests over trying to get out of mandatory showers in gym class by hiding in the stalls of the girls’ bathroom. Nowadays, she’s just fairly adequate when it comes to walks on the beach and going to bat for me when I show up to book club without a stitch of makeup on because I overslept. But as far as gal-pals go, she’s catty and will tell anyone who will listen that I routinely put Lunchables in my kid’s backpack and once tried to pass off Manischewitz Matzo Ball mix as homemade during Passover by adding only paprika and some white meat chicken breast. If you should encounter Tiffany in the chair next to yours in the manicurist shop, you should probably not hesitate to give her The Fingernail.

CHILDREN *************************

My boys have gone above and beyond the call of duty as kids. This past Mother’s Day, not only did they order me a bouquet of roses, but they also remembered I get depressed when I watch living things die and so they sent me an already deceased daddy long legs spider. This may seem gruesome to you but I knew it was their symbolic way of reminding me of all the years I paid them to kill bugs for me because I was too squeamish and had bad aim trying to throw hardcover books at the scores of creatures slithering up our walls. This updated model of son is also vastly improved from previous versions in that they can tie their own shoes and when you tell them to make their beds they don’t say, “Why? We’re just gonna sleep in them again tonight.” I’m very pleased with how these guys turned out after high school and when I see women walking down the street, looking just a little too energetic or well coordinated with their accessories, I always recommend giving birth to a few little boys, just to give some new meaning to life.

FIRST EX-HUSBANDS *

I really wish I could give this individual less than one star. Amazon should have ¼ star options. He started off fairly reliable but soon turned out to be really unstable, becoming completely unglued and unhinged after our divorce, not only breaking down himself but additionally breaking lots of hearts, rules, laws, and even a few bones after he had a textbook mid-life crisis and bought himself a motorcycle. Ladies, if you run into him at a singles event, I would run, not walk in the opposite direction.

WORDPRESS FOLLOWERS************

These people are some of the best in the entire blogosphere. They’re creative, friendly, discerning, have great sense of humors, and are incredibly supportive. I’m thrilled to have made a connection with them and can only hope they’ll leave a nice review of me when the time is right….like a couple of paragraphs down!

And it would not surprise me in the least to come across these reviews written about Yours Truly.

HOUSEKEEPERS/ORGANIZERS/COOKS/LAUNDRESSES/CARPOOLERS/SHOPPERS/GARDENERS **

Meh. Those first six classifications, we’ll only allot her 2 stars. But that last category? Don’t make us laugh. This woman can’t grow a radish or carrot to save her life or to compete with that raggedy looking parsnippity vegetable that Scarlet O’Hara dug out of the ground triumphantly in that climatic scene of GWTW, where she vowed as God as her witness, she’d never go hungry again. Speaking of The Hunger Games, we were routinely starved because Ms. Lewis always claimed she had deadlines to meet with all her many blogs. Can we say delusions of grandeur?

GIRLFRIENDS ***

I’ve been Stephanie’s boyfriend for the past four years now and I’m going to go out on a limb and say that Stephanie tries to act like she belongs in this decade, but there’s always something incredibly 80’s about her. It could be her gigantic hair, her off the shoulder clothing, her eyeglasses, her shoes, her music, her dancing, her expressions, her jewelry, or her Jazzercise. But it’s probably her taste in 80’s movies. For instance, Stephanie actually requests that I refer to her as “Baby” in this rating. Well, even though I haven’t exactly had the time of my life, she also insists I end my review with this final line . . . “Nobody puts Baby in a corner!” Maybe not. But as far as Stephanie goes? They should just put her out of her misery.

BLOGGERS *

Aha! Using the term loosely, Little Miss Menopause can’t write her way out of a paper bag. She’s actually not a blogger but instead just a bogger — constantly bogging her posts down with these crazy ideas about far-fetched concepts like how people will be leaving fake reviews about the ordinary folks who play important roles in their lives. Like anyone would ever waste his time reading something as silly as that.

Or tell female readers to waste their time checking out her writing for another website when it’s something as truly bizarre as this …. CLICK HERE!

Nope! Let’s Party Like It’s 2015!

princeAs I retired party planner I can’t help but think up reasons to have a new kind of shindig or put a twist on an old standby. Here are some party tips you’re not likely to find anywhere else.

Host a Real Pity Party:  Hire a violinist. No napkins, just an abundance of Kleenex tissue boxes. Introduce guests to one another by saying, “Woe is me. Woe is not you.” Serve Itty Bitty Pity Patties with pity pâté and pull from your pantry some pastry for Petit Pity-fours for dessert. Make sure your appearance can be described as “Prettiful Pitiful.” Help all guests find the bathroom by putting a sign up saying, “Pity Potty!” Invite that newly married couple Patty and Petey, but don’t let them call you petty or pithy. Play, “It’s My Party and I’ll Cry if I want To.”  Hand out Silly Pity Putty as going home favors and of course lemons, admonishing people “when life gives you lemons, NEVER make lemonade!”

Forget “Take Your Daughter To Work” Day.  Have a “Take Your Husband to the Gynecologist” Day instead. Show him the competitive sport in this adrenaline pumping, heart-pounding next few hours. Can he hide his underwear inside his pants, then leave it in a wad on that germy chair (which many other females have sat on) while scurrying into a tissue paper gown before the doctor sharply knocks just once on the door, while barging in on him completely naked? Will he be coordinated enough to slide his feet perfectly into the stirrups without being told to “scoot down a few more inches” and then suddenly, “Stop! That’s a bit too far, can you scootch back up a tad?” Try out other versions of these special “experience a different job” days — How about “Take Your Son to the Bikini Waxing Salon” day? Or my favorite, “Take Your Avon Lady to a Tupperware Party?”

Do a Variation of a Tree-Trimming Party. This Christmas season, have people over for a Bush Trimming Party. Wince just a little when issuing the verbal invite.

No More “Come As You Are” parties! “Come As You Will Be” parties are where it’s at. Pretend it’s the morning after your big gala and tell your guests to come following their one-night-stand sexual escapade when they’re already completely hung-over. Saves a ton on alcohol!

Reverse Abduction Party! Remember being a teenager when your mother would get that phone call informing her to have you sleep in your best pajamas because you were being secretly “kidnapped” the following morning and surprised with going out to breakfast? Reverse this process. Gather teenagers up to wear waitress uniforms and knock on front doors of House of Pancakes employees to serve them omelets in bed.

Off The Wall Party! Recall 1994 when you moved into your new house and had a Painting Party with all your helpful friends? Call up all those same thoughtful people years later while lamenting, “How would YOU like to live with this Benjamin Moore Sage Green paint day-in and day-out? Do you really believe that’s considered a neutral color in today’s home fashion?” Tell them this time it’s BYOD (Bring Your Own Dropcloth) Serve Tanqueray, Tonic & Turpentine drinks.

A Housewarming Party!  Only turn the thermostat down to 52 degrees.

And finally…. Birthday Shmirthdays! Yeah, yeah.  Why should we only celebrate our way INTO this world?  Don’t you envy Tom Sawyer (and other soap opera characters presumed dead) being able to attend their own funeral? Word your invitation delicately. A “Passing Over” party might get misconstrued for the Jewish holiday, Passover. I suggest sending doornails out in advance to clarify the occasion. Put everyone else in charge of all the important details, then walk around glaring at people while accusing, “Who died and made you boss?” Play Buddy Holly’s “That’ll Be the Day . . .  When I die!” and when conversation turns to his fateful plane crash, get appropriately spooked and say you’ve changed your mind — this is actually a “6 Ft Under” Party.  As guests start to get super creeped out, reassure them with, “Relax, I just mean a swim party in the deep end of my in-ground pool. Turn on the hot-tub, order in pizza, inflate a few balloons and call it a day. Nothing wrong with being traditionally conventional!

What’s your favorite reason to celebrate?  And if you haven’t already read my very unusual ways to reveal the gender of your pregnancy at these quirky parties, please visit me RIGHT HERE on BLUNTmoms!

And since I love reader interaction, I recently had someone take me up on my prompt of writing a blog about the male version of Siri and all the issues HE would encounter.  Please visit Phil at The Phil Factor and read that post RIGHT HERE. Thank you!

10 New Uses For Old Phone Booths

bt-artbox-benjamin-shine-box-lounger1-600x3701NYC has removed the actual telephones in their booths and installed Wi Fi hubs instead.

Here are my ideas for some other ways to repurpose a Phone Booth. Just deposit 4 quarters, enter the compartment and do your thing. Think of all the revenue the city makes!

  1. Time-Out Booths for Your Misbehaving Kids. Sit them firmly down in the bean-bag chair, holding a sign stating, “I was naughty so now I’m in Time-Out.” (Also helps reinstate the word “naughty” as parent admonishment and not just for vocabulary in the BDSM community.)
  2. Fan-Filled – Cooling devices installed on all four sides and the ceiling expressly for menopausal women who need to tame a hot-flash. Or for glamour models on their way to photographer’s studios requiring that sexy, tousled-haired look, but who are too cheap to invest in wind-blowing machines.
  3. Weigh-Station. For dieters who need to step on a scale to see if they should go for the New York style pizza or just stick to sushi.
  4. “I Just Need a Moment” – a comfy chair and curtains for when you feel embarrassed and would like some privacy. After you’ve stepped on the scale in #3 would be just such an example. “Sushi it is!”
  5. Pre-Dental Booth – – Equipped with mini-sink, disposable toothbrush, paste, and floss. Because you can’t just show up for your hygienist and immediately demand to brush your teeth before your routine cleaning, can you? That’s cheating!
  6. A Mirror with a built-in hairdryer Stall– – For all the times you run out of the house with damp hair. Talking mirror utters the following phrases, “Snow White is the fairest of them all.” Or “Hey, nice blow-job!” Or dispenses a single white glove while singing, “I’m starting with the man in the mirror / I’m asking him to change his ways / And no message could have been any clearer… la la la la”
  7. A Casket — Leave the original telephone inside and turn the phone booth horizontally on the ground with a silk lining and a sobering sign proclaiming, “Here lies the reason we used to be able to say, “Here’s a dime – Go call someone who cares!” It’s The Death of the Pay Phone.
  8. Costume Changing Station – – Hang a red cape with a big “S’ on it and a pair of nerdy glasses for all those Clark Kent wannabees. “It’s a bird, it’s a plane . . . “
  9. A pinball machine or a Jukebox — Just to remind us that these objects are even more archaic than telephone booths.
  10. “It’s Alive!” Alcove — Fill it with water, add lobster, crab and salmon and drape a fishing pole over the top with a sign, “Teach a man to fish . . . ” Alternatively, turn it into a cage with a talking parrot that screeches, “ET, Phone home!”

OR . . . Just leave it vacant with a sign stating, “Please go inside and shut the door so when you jabber incessantly on your cellular device, the rest of us don’t have to be subjected to your divorce proceedings, your grocery list, or the lab results from your physician.

(And by the way, I overheard your cholesterol numbers . . . better stick to the sushi tonight.)

Who’s Watching the Kids??

This couple isn't getting divorced. They're arguing over who should inherit their kids.

This couple isn’t getting divorced. They’re arguing over who should inherit their kids.

Being Jewish, the only Godmother I ever actually knew was obsessed with pumpkins, mice, the stroke of midnight, and pranced around singing Bippity Boppety Boo. However I saw a lot of my non-Jewish friends give careful consideration to selecting godparents when their babies were born. I breathed a sigh of relief that we wouldn’t have to choose anyone.

Fast forward to a time when we grasped our own mortality and hired an attorney to draw up our living trust. Interesting that it’s called a LIVING trust and yet they force you to think about DYING.

My husband thought we should choose his mother. And by “mother” I mean “the woman who took a razor to our newborn baby’s head so her hair would grow in thicker and then sought a wet nurse because she was convinced I couldn’t breastfeed properly.” My own mother (upon hearing the possibility that my mother-in-law was in the running) stormed into a fit of jealously just thinking about having to make an appointment to see her own grandchildren with someone who went out of her way to wear an all-white mother-of-the-groom dress at my wedding. “Who does she think she is? Snow White?” Clearly neither grandmother was a good choice.

We moved on to siblings. My husband and I both wrote down the qualifications we thought made our sisters outstanding candidates. Each list had the exact same number of positive attributes, which got us nowhere. At my suggestion, we next jotted down both ladies’ faults so we could pick the lesser of the two evils. (Hi Sis….I love you!)

My Sister

  • Still eats Capt. Crunch cereal.
  • Wears nylons.
  • Wears open-toe heels with those nylons.
  • Saw Star Wars 23 times.

His Sister

  • Shaves her head.
  • Became a wet nurse.
  • Wears white to compete with brides at their wedding.

Hmmmm, understand our dilemma? Also understand his genetics?

Seeing as there wasn’t anyone waving their arms madly while shouting, “pick me, pick me!” we began to weed through our friends. It soon became apparent we were going to need to offer really good “incentives.” That’s a nice way of saying our kids were so bratty, it required bribing our mere acquaintances to please accept this profound responsibility. Even my beautician asked if we’d throw in a lifetime supply of latex gloves along with inheriting our 5-bedroom home? Apparently henna stains are unsightly. I consoled myself thinking my daughter would have perfectly manicured nails for her Bat Mitzvah.

What was happening? This was crazy thinking! What were the odds that something bad would happen to both of us at the same time? We could board separate airplanes. He hates to fly with me anyhow because I leave deep fingernail grooves (the non-manicured kind!) in his arms during scary turbulence.

It was settled. We wouldn’t choose legal guardians because the plan is to live forever. As an extra measure of security however, I have an idea. I’ll buy our daughter a red curly wig and teach her to belt out, “The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow!”

Surely Daddy Warbucks doesn’t wear nylons, isn’t a wet-nurse and won’t need a pay-off.

How did you choose guardians in case something happens to you??