I cannot think of April Fools' Day without remembering my mother and her harmless practical jokes. She especially enjoyed fooling with food. On the sandwiches she made for us to take to work or school, she might add a piece of cardboard or use individually-wrapped slices of cheese without unwrapping them. After the third time in seven years, we were wise to the supper of spaghetti with rubber bands in it.
It didn't even have to be April Fools' Day. She would go for it any time a good idea presented itself, like the time she was mending the waistband on a pair of my brother's jockey shorts. While she was at it, she sewed up the fly too.
One April 1st she made a sandwich for my Dad just the way he liked them -- an inch of meat and two pieces of bread. Oh, and one small rubber band. She chuckled to herself all day long, picturing him sitting around with the guys at lunch time and having to tangle with the elastic in his sandwich. When he came home from work that night, he didn't say anything about it, and she, of course, wouldn't bring it up. He didn't say anything about it the next day either or the day after that, and she began to worry that he had actually swallowed it, so she finally asked him about it. She knew he had gotten back at her good when all he did was laugh.
Note to JB: Instead of the left-over chicken, how about spaghetti for supper tonight?
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