In the mid 80s all the kids were still home; the oldest ones, teenagers. Although April Fool’s jokes were a family tradition, none of mine were particularly creative: “Look outside; it snowed. Three feet.”
That worked until the kids got older. Let’s see, about preschool age.
Then, one day, I had my brainstorm. On the night of March 31, I waited until everyone (including the lovely Mrs. Bellah) was asleep, snuck into their rooms, and unplugged all electronic devices.
Then, I set the clocks ahead. Four hours.
I woke everyone the next morning at the regular time (6:30, which was really 2:30) with good news. “Hey, Dad is fixing biscuits and gravy. Hurry, won’t last long.”
I busied myself in the kitchen and listened to the happy sounds of children, anticipating their favorite breakfast and getting ready for school. The first of the five reached the table about the time everything was ready.
“We’re starting together today. Go tell your brothers, sisters and mom.”
He didn’t have to beg. Everyone was in a good mood and ready for my signature dish. We sat down together, prayed and I served them. Such a happy family.
Until my announcement. “Would someone like to call time and temperature and tell everyone what the recording says?” I got the look.
“Just do it; you’ll see why.”
She picked up the phone, dialed and listened. Everyone was quiet, searching their sister’s face for the answer.
Her sudden frown said it all. She slammed the receiver down and attacked her once-favorite dad. As did the others when they understood what she was shouting at me.
“April Fools,” I sputtered, laughing too hard to feel the blows. 🙂