…to give parenting advise/help to Moms. I don’t think they knew who they were asking.
See if this video helps you…and let me know if it’s even legal.
http://www.workingmother.com/content/comedian-maryellen-hooper
July 29, 2015
January 10, 2015
Yep, I fell off stage…
Posted by stinkyflowers under Comedy | Tags: Comedy, Harrahs, Vegas Improv |[8] Comments
Not figuratively…literally. I said, “Thank you, goodnight!” and fell off the stage.
I guess it was bound to happen. I’ve been doing comedy for a billion years and the odds were stacking up against me. I named my first CD “Dignity Under Duress” for a reason…I have, eh-hem, mishaps.
The scene of the incident: The Improv at Harrah’s in Las Vegas. My favorite club in the country. I love the club, the staff and especially, the manager Carl. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be a Mom…but I digress. I’ve played on that stage hundreds of times over the years with nary a mishap. (There was that one time, I had to go to the bathroom so bad I almost peed my pants on stage…but again, I digress.)
The audience is split in half down the middle with an isle from the stage. There are four steps down from the stage that takes you down that isle, through the crowd. They are well marked with reflective tape and covered with non-skid carpet. I usually walk down the steps to get off the stage and walk through the crowd to get to the front of the theater to meet the crowd as they leave. Easy-peasy.
I get chills just looking at them now.
Flash back to me sitting in the green room, talking with Carl:
“Hey, Carl…do you have any lotion? I’m feeling extra Vegas-y.” (Which means we’re in a freaking desert, so all the moisture has been sucked out of my skin, leaving me feeling/looking like a velociraptor.
“Sure…here ya go.” as he pulls a big jug of lotion out of his magic sound booth.
I load up my hands with the lotion and can actually hear the sound of my skin sucking it in. Now hindsight is 20/20…I SHOULD HAVE put some of the lotion on my feet. I know that sounds weird and inappropriate but believe me that would have been the LEAST inappropriate thing that’s been done in that greenroom. It is Vegas after all.
I hear the MC introduce me, so I ignore my dry feet and head out onto the stage. This is probably where I should mention my shoes. Very tame shoes by Vegas standards. In fact, I think they’re the approved shoes for Vegas nuns. Low heels, slide-on, comfy shoes:
Certainly not shoes I would ever have to worry falling off of. You would think.
I had a great set. The crowd was responsive and fun. I talked with several of them from on stage. I especially remember the doctor. He was in town on “business”. Yeah, isn’t everyone? (wink, wink)
I finished my show, picked up my cup of water, bowed to the thunderous applause (eh-hem) and handed off the mike to the MC. As I took my first step off the stage…
(reenactment)
My cozy, Vegas-nun shoe slipped halfway off my Vegas-dry velociraptor foot. My ankle buckled and made me fly (head-first) down the stairs! I heard a collective GASP! from the audience…then complete silence. I think they were wondering if it was part of my show. “I meant to do that!” I yelled from the bottom of the stairs. They all laughed. I was still face-down in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. Well, technically my face was at the bottom of the stairs and my legs and feet were still at the top of the stairs which made it impossible for me to get up. I AM proud to say I still had my cup of water in my hand.
The woman sitting in the chair 6 inches from where I was sprawled said, “Hey, you broke your leg.” Thanks for your diagnosis, crowd member. Here’s the crazy part…NO ONE GOT UP TO HELP ME! Only Maria, the sweetest Maitre d’ in the world, came running to my assistance.
“Hey, Maria…I think I fell down the stairs.”
“Yes you did, Baby.”
“Everyone is just staring at us, huh?”
“Yes they are, Baby.”
“Thank you for coming to get me, Maria…I notice the DOCTOR didn’t come see if I was OK…he’s busy with his ‘business’ trip I guess.”
Maria pulled me up to my feet, which is an amazing feat since she only comes up to my bellybutton.
“You’re freakishly strong, Maria.”
“Yes, Baby.”
The crowd cheered when I was back on my feet.
“I’m OK…NO THANKS TO ANY OF YOU!” I screamed at them. They all just laughed again.
Thank goodness I’m a comic, I just made a joke and brushed it off. That would have gone WAAAAY different if I were a vasectomologist.
June 2, 2014
Vocabulary smart-ish…
Posted by stinkyflowers under Motherhood | Tags: kids vocabulary, Peregrine Falcons, vocabulary words, voracious eaters |1 Comment
Nate: “Mommy, did you know that Peregrine Falcons are voracious eaters?”
Me: “I did not know that. Wow…”voracious” is an excellent word. Do you know what it means?”
Nate: “Yup. It means they like to eat a lot.”
Me: “That’s right! Wow, you sure know a lot of words.”
Nate: “That’s because I have an excellent vocabulary.”
Me: “Yes, you do.”
Nate: “Mommy? What does vocabulary mean?”
Me: “It means I have a new joke for my act.”
May 12, 2014
Mother’s Day rant…
Posted by stinkyflowers under Uncategorized | Tags: mom, Mother's Day |Leave a Comment
OK so I was a guest blogger for Mother’s Day awhile back. They thought it was worth reposting so here ya go: (warning…it’s not your usual warm-and-squishy take on the day)
“Campaign To Abolish Mother’s Day!”
May 10, 2014
My Budding Artist…The “Bathroom Period”
Posted by stinkyflowers under Uncategorized | Tags: Art, bathroom, humor, school |[5] Comments
We’ve been getting lots of art from our 6 yr old. It’s actually quite good for his age. perspective, colors, shading…
Notice the fancy “Z”? His Dad and I are quite proud and hang most on the fridge gallery.
Fast forward to last Thurs. Zeke came home from school with a dark plastic bag. He stood before me, arms outstretched presenting me the bag. Only problem is…he has that look in his eye. That look that every Mom recognizes in her child to mean something wicked this way comes.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a drawing for you, Mommy.”
“Oh, thank you Zeke. Can I open it it?”
(evil giggle) “SURE!” (more evil cackling)
Here is the picture my precious son drew for me:
Needless to say, this one didn’t make the fridge.
I will admit that I had a “Mom’s glass is half-full” thought: “At least he knows the correct spelling of Butt.”
(Sigh…)
November 30, 2013
Want to know about “Frozen”?
Posted by stinkyflowers under Comedy Film Nerds Review | Tags: Comedy Film Nerds, Frozen, Frozen review, Olaf |[2] Comments
September 28, 2013
“Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs 2” review…
Posted by stinkyflowers under Comedy Film Nerds Review | Tags: Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, Comedy Film Nerds, Movie Review |[2] Comments
We loved the first “Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs”. Did we love the second? Hmmmm….
Go here to see: Comedy Film Nerds.
September 25, 2013
“Say, Cheese!” and other things to say if you want bad photos…
Posted by stinkyflowers under Motherhood | Tags: kids, mall photos, photographers, Picture People |[2] Comments
Come on, People! Picture (taking) People to be exact. If you spent just a couple more bucks an hour, you could hire actual photographers. Forget photographers…I’d settle for someone who has kids or at the very least…has spoken to a kid before. My boys are 9 and almost 6. You can’t hold up a squeaky frog, speak in a baby voice and sing, “Ooooh, I’m gonna git your belly!” Why? Because you get a photo of 2 boys rolling their eyes, that’s why. When I suggested they were a little old for that, she actually said, “Say Money!”. What?
I know what you’re thinking, “Just stop going there!” I would, but I’m trapped. I started a tradition when they were babies. On a fluke, I took Nate into the place when we were strolling the mall one day. He had just turned 1 and they had the cutest photo in the window of a toddler holding a big red number one. “How cute is that?” I thought. “And there’s no sitting fee!” Little did I know how much “No sitting fee” would cost me. I plopped him down on the white backdrop and they handed him the red number. $150. later, I had an addiction. So now, every year I take them to get their red-number birthday photos.
Early on I realized the level of talent I was dealing with. But I thought, “Hey, I’ll just take over, tell them what to shoot and make my kids laugh / smile naturally.” Some years that worked, other years I got stuck with a photographer just out of Kindergarten or hung over from a frat party the night before.
“Say, Cheese, Mathew.”
“My name is Nate and we don’t say cheese, we’re vegetarians. We say, ‘Soy Cheese!”
“Huh?”
“Soy Cheese. It’s a joke. Get it? We don’t eat cheese…oh, nevermind.”
“Oh, ok. Say soy cheese Nicky.”
That’s when I usually take over and manage to get the shots I want. I always give the photographer the benefit of the doubt, stand back and let them work before I step in and become one of “those” Moms.
This year I nearly lost it. We got a “Poser”. That’s a photographer who has four poses in their repertoire. They force ever kid into them, regardless of age, gender or temperament.
“OK, I want you to cross your arms in front of you, with your hand on the outside of your arm. Tilt your head towards me and angle your bodies back. DON’T MOVE! Stand next to your brother – are you brothers? You don’t look alike – let your shirts touch but not your bodies….Now smile! ”
AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!
How could this EVER work on anybody, let alone kids? I grabbed the reigns after the next painful shot was taken: (Notice the pinching shenanigans going on in an attempt to relieve their boredom)
“Excuse me, do you mind if I make a few suggestions?”
“Uhhhh, I guess so”
“Just let them stand there and I’ll talk. You take the pictures.”
“But I don’t know…”
“Oh, my gosh…Zeke…did you toot?”
You just have to know your audience. Boys, 4 – 44 years old = fart jokes. Works every time.
My other trick? Bring their favorite toy in the world and voila! Instant personality. Plus I’ve documented their current passion:
(Nate’s hobbies have changed every year. Reptiles; Harry Potter; Cars; Falconry… Zeke has brought Legos for the past five years. I sure hope Legoland stays open so he can get a job when he grows up.)
“OK, now for the magic red-number birthday photos!”
“Uhhh…OK…I want you to put your left hand on the top of the 9 but keep your fingers off the front of it, then hold it 3/4 of the way down your…”
“I got this…Nate, sit on the floor and hold your 9. Oh, I forgot to tell you…I tooted! ”
“Zeke, your turn. Sit on the floor and hold your 6. Uh, oh…I forgot to tell you….!”
Got it!!! Only 12 more months until the next one…maybe I’ll try pants next year….
Sigh…
September 20, 2013
“This house protected by Taekwondo…”
Posted by stinkyflowers under Motherhood | Tags: Lego guys, poomsae, TaeKwonDo |[2] Comments
The boys have been taking Taekwondo lessons for 8 months now. They’ve each gone from a white belt to a yellow stripe belt and now to a solid yellow belt. I was so proud when the instructor told me they where ready to test for the next belt after only a couple of months…then I found out that it costs $40 per kid to test. I’m guessing at that price, there’s going to be LOTS of belts coming our way. Yellow with green stripes; ochre with fushia polka dots – until they reach the elusive rainbow belt for turning their Poomsea into a fabulous dance number.
I’m loving the fact that they’re still enjoying it. Two times a week for the last 8 months…that’s 32 years in kid-time.
They both know Taekwondo is for self-defense only and never to be used on anyone aggressively. However, I think Zeke found a loophole:
“Zeke, leave your Lego guys on the table and go with Daddy and Nate to the restroom to wash your hands before the waiter brings our food, please.”
“But I don’t want to leave them!”
“You can’t take Lego guys to the bathroom.”
“OK…Mommy, remember all those times you watched us do Taekwondo in class?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember any of it?”
“Some of it, why?”
“If someone tries to take my guys, I want you to use it on them!”
I’m sure the Lego guys in our house sleep a lot easier knowing yellow-belted Zeke’s got their backs.
September 9, 2013
Surprise Birthday Party: BIG parenting fail #2…
Posted by stinkyflowers under Motherhood, Uncategorized | Tags: Audubon Center for Birds of Prey, Peregrine Falcon, surprise birthday party |[7] Comments
It started off so well…
Nate came into my bedroom one morning, about a month before his birthday,
“Mommy…I want a surprise party for my birthday this year.” then waved his hands in front of his face and chanted,
“I didn’t hear anything…I didn’t hear anything…” as he backed out of the room.
That instantly became one of my top 3 Nate quotes. So funny.
“Hmm, a surprise party? I can do this!” I thought. “I can invite all his friends and tell their parents NOT to tell the kids until the day of because what 8 or 9 year old can keep a secret?” It looked so good on paper.
I checked the calendar and realized we were going to Anaheim, CA for the 10 days before his birthday, so I would have to throw the party 4 days AFTER his actual birthday. “No problem.” I naively thought. “I’ll tell Nate that his birthday is the trip to Disneyland and we’ll have a special family birthday on his actual day.” BIG mistake. In my attempt to make that day special and throw him off the surprise, I accidentally caused my son one of the worst emotional scars to date. I thought, “I’ll hang the birthday banner in the living room and hang his new Falcon posters in his room.” I actually said this to him when I picked him up from school:
“Nate! I have a big surprise for you when we get home!” meaning the posters. Hindsight is 20/20 people.
He threw open the front door, saw the banner and started looking around with the sweetest, hopeful, anticipatory face an innocent 9 year old can make. I still didn’t get it.
“It’s in your bedroom, Nate!” I cheered…happy he was so excited. He reached his bedroom in 2 strides; leaped in, ready to receive the room-full of friends.
“Look! I hung your new posters! You have a Falconer’s room, now!” I exclaimed, STILL not seeing what was really going on.
“That’s awesome, Mommy…is anyone else here?”
“Grandma drove all the way over for your birthday! We’re going to your favorite restaurant tonight!”
“Oh…uh…OK…” and he grabbed a book and disappeared into a corner. How could I be so blind?
The next day, I couldn’t wake Nate up. He’s usually the first one out of bed, wide awake, talking a mile a minute. Not that day. He was laying on the couch with a blanket over his head. He didn’t want me to look at him.
“What’s wrong, Nate?”
“Nothing.”
“You don’t seem like yourself.”
“I’m fine, (sniff)”
“You seem really sad. Are you sad?”
“I’m trying not to be sad, Mommy…” his voice was shaking, trying to hold back the tears. “but none of my friends came over for my party yesterday.”
“Your party….(gasp!)” THEN the bricks fell on my head. My poor, sweet Nate thought the banner was hanging for his party and that no one had showed up. OH. MY. DUH. I’m an idiot. This was worse than any of those horrible practical joke shows I hate because they are so mean. I had inadvertently “Punked” my own son.
“Nate, Honey…we didn’t invite your friends over. Remember? The trip to CA was your birthday party. We did all those fun things at Disneyland and CA Adventure instead of a party, Remember? We just had your family party yesterday.”
“I know, but I wanted my friends to come over and sing Happy Birthday to me…(sniff)”
I look over and Mark has tears all welled up in his eyes. My big softy. He starts mouthing to me,
“Tell him! For the love of Pete, TELL HIM!”
I mouth back a firm,
“NO! We’ve gone this far! We only have 3 more days!”
“What?”
“3 more days…Never mind, just help me here!”
“What?”
(sigh…)
That was the loooooongest 3 days in the history of birthday planning. I almost told him a million times. I debated whether the happiness of the actual surprise would erase the tortured memories of “The birthday that never was.” I finally gave an inch.
“Nate, how about we go to your favorite place on Saturday?”
“The Audubon Center for Birds of Prey?!!!!” He perked up.
“Yup! I have to go help Amber, but I’ll meet you, Daddy & Zeke there.”
“YES!” The corners of his mouth bent up an inch.
With the help of all my dear friends, we got the party all set up, hid everyone and the rest (hopefully) will be the history he remembers:
Was it a success? Did we undo the damage? It felt good. It felt real good. But only time and a possible future therapist will tell…
(sigh…)
Stinky Flowers 