It was a joke—an April Fools’ joke, and the response to the 814-word post was an eye-opener.
I always try to keep posts under a thousand words because I know that people who are reading websites don’t want tomes.
When Papa first read the post prior to publication, he said, “But Sylvia and I didn’t break up.”
“JUST. KEEP. READING.” I said.
When he finished, he was not happy. “You got me again.”
Papa is a sore loser.
The first indication some readers hadn’t read the entire post came when Papa’s cell phone started ringing off the hook at 6 a.m. It seems that the Geriatric Women’s Club (GWC) has been following my blog, and three quarters of them are widowed and looking for love, and on April 1, Papa was the hot prospect.
After the GWC ladies started calling, Papa began screening his calls. Then his friend Paddy called.
“I’m sorry about you and Sylvia,” he told Papa. “But what were you thinking?”
“Paddy,” Papa said, “The whole thing was a ruse—an April Fools’ joke. Moose didn’t get kicked out of school and Jenny isn’t pregnant. Jenny just goes a little crazy on April Fools’ Day. That’s all.”
“Yeah,” Paddy said, “but when did you and Sylvia break up?”
Then there was the email from Jolie in Ireland congratulating me on my pregnancy.
“You didn’t finish reading,” I emailed her back. “It was a joke. A bad one at that. If anything you should have been offering condolences.”
“I couldn’t finish reading,” she wrote back. “I fainted from shock.”
Lillianna is so mad at me that she’s not taking my calls. And Papa has been on Facebook trying to do damage control because apparently there are some people out there who believe that he was carrying on an illicit affair with the fictional Widow Greenberg.
Of the people who realized they had been duped (i.e., those who read the post to the end), there was Rita who started planning to make baby blankets for the little unborn Beans. There was Nicole, who made me laugh when she wrote, “Good lord, woman. Just about peed myself.” And there was Betsy, who may not be able to think of a joke (that isn’t too mean), but she sure does know how to give life lessons that resonate.
For the record: Moose doesn’t know the word “shit.” Not yet anyway. He has not been kicked out of school. There is no Widow Greenberg or anyone in the neighborhood resembling her. I made that up. Even by Bean standards, that story is outlandish. Papa and Sylvia are still dating. I am not pregnant. The ultrasound was a public domain photo that I put my name on and Photoshopped so that the babies wouldn’t be recognized [that’s a joke].
The really strange thing is that although there’s no make-up saleswoman in the Bean neighborhood and certainly no Widow Greenberg, I discovered a tube of crème de nuit in the boys’ bathroom. I’m not sure if it belongs to Papa or his friend Mr. Bob who spent a few days and a few bottles of wine with us recently. Or maybe it belongs to the ghost of Emma Louise.
Notes:
- The women were out in full force on April Fools and Papa made a killing at the Ladies’ Club.
- This post was 574 words. Did you make it to the end?
{ 6 comments }
I told you I was gullible!!! I fell for all of it until you mentioned that you weren’t pregnant in the last post. But I believed the rest! You’re a very good lair! Poor Sylvia….all these women she has to fight off now.
My internal clock is so off that I totally missed out on April fool’s day. On April 3rd I was all “it’s not still March”? That is what my world has come to.
I was pretty shocked by the ultra sound but thought it would just make your blog even funnier!!
I did end up stealing a joke. My oldest called to tell me his band had been hired by a small record label and that he was dropping out of college. I proceeded to tell three other people. We all fell for it.
Thanks for the mention, by the way!!
Next year I plan to be 30 miles from the nearest town/phone/woman on the Appalachian Trail. That’s no joke.
Haha, thanks for the mention. Poor Papa, I’m serious when I say if they ever do break up i’m setting him up with our Mimi. She’s a spicy 89 year old who does the rosery every day via cell phone conference call with all the Ohio bitties back home, drinks only Pacifico in a chilled glass (picky picky) and cheats at Scrabble any chance she gets (no seriosuly, she gets up and a bunch of tiles hit the floor like it’s raining).
Love birds…
yeah, April’s fools jokes are always a risk, it seems the better-more thought-out the joke, the more people don’t get it. I am proud to say I read to the end..but at the beginning, I was thinking to myself (being brand new to your blog) “oh goodness, her life sounds like a soap opera!”
I sincerely hope no one stays mad at you! :p
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