April Fool - Saturday Writing Essential

Challenge 1: Write something (prose or poetry) about the best joke you’ve ever pulled on someone or the best joke that someone has ever pulled on you.

April Fool

I am the April Fool.

We were on a rare vacation trip to Montana to visit friends. We were a small family then...just two daughters and Deb and I. We had a three hour trip to Minneapolis and then 24 hours riding through the flattest country you can imagine...nothing but flat...flat...flat...field after field of grain and cattle...that was it. We were all pretty bored...especially my two daughters. They were preschool age...2 and 4 maybe. So like sponges thirsty for information, they were pointing out and naming everything they saw.

“Daddy...look...another train!

“Daddy...what’s that?

“That wheat...lots and lots of wheat.”

“Daddy....what’s that?”

“That’s a silo.”

“Daddy... look at all the cows!”

I looked. They WERE cows...herds of them...cattle is what they call them out west. (remember....we were all bored...)

So, I said, “No, kids...they are sheep.”

“Un-uh...those are cows.”

No, kids...those are sheep!”

“Daddy... those are cows.”

“No, sweet little darlings...those are sheep!”

“Don't believe me? Ask you mother.”

Of course she looked at me with disgust as they asked her “Mo-om...are those sheep?

“Ask your father!” as she opted not to get involved with my idiotic fun.

“Daddy , those aren’t cows?

“No, sweet-ums...those are sheep...”

“Really?”

“Would Daddy lie to you?”

“OK.” (kids are so trusting)

From then on, for the rest of the trip, I’d point out the cows... say

“Hey girls...what are those?”

“Sheep!” they answer enthusiastically.

I bored of that game and the rest of the trip was uneventful. We were meeting friends in Minot, South Dakota. They met us at the train station and we had an hour and a half ride to Plentywood, Montana. They lived on a ranch. They grew wheat and raised beef cattle. Had a big herd themselves on a couple thousand acres of mesa...flat...flat...flat. There was nothing there but wheat, cattle, and a farmhouse every five miles or so. I had forgotten about my evilness with my daughters until we passed a herd of cattle, and my daughters cried out...

“Look, Daddy...at all the SHEEP!”

I sheepishly looked up front to see my friend look at his wife, incredulously...silently saying...

“WHAT THE F**K?”

“How far back east to these people live anyway?”

Several years later, the same two daughters and I were going to the wake of the father of my friend, Peter. We had an old Dodge Dart, and for some reason, my wife was not along. We pulled into a Mobil Station to gas up. This was when “pay-at-the-pump” was just getting popular. They were older...wiser...but just as gullible. (grin).

I filled the tank, twisted on the gas cap, slammed the lid that covers the gas cap shut, got my receipt and got into the car. We were all in the front seat.

I put the car in gear and started to go... They both looked at me...

“Dad, are you gonna pay?”

“ Oh....Oh, yeah. Sure.”

I inched the car up so we could see the attendant through the window.

“Can you see him?”

“Yeah, Dad...he’s right there.”

“Is he looking over here?”

“Yeah.”

I waited. “Is he looking now?”

“No...he’s looking away.”

“Duck your heads down!

“WHUH??” they both said in unison.

“DUCK!” and I hit the gas and sped out of the gas station, going like a bat out of hell and my daughters yelling at me...

“DAD...DAD...YOU HAVE TO GO BACK!!!”..YOU HAVE TO PAY!!!”

“THEY”LL CALL THE POLICE!!!”

“THEY”LL NEVER CATCH ME!!!”

“DAD!!!”

“DAD!!!”

I must admit, they made me pretty proud. I kept up my one experience of being on the lam until I couldn’t keep from smiling. (I smile a lot).

Once they saw that, I’m sure they remembered the “sheep/cow “ incident, and “the jig was up”. I’ll never forget the wide eyed look on their eyes, wondering what demon had possessed me to drive off without paying for my gas. We still laugh when we tell these stories when we're together  on holidays and reminisce. They still love me and have long since forgiven me for my playful cruelty.

Challenge 1: Write something (prose or poetry) about the best joke you’ve ever pulled on someone or the best joke that someone has ever pulled on you.