April Fool’s Also Happens Every Other Month
(This takes place a few years ago on April Fool’s Day. A few things it’s important to note: my father appears to be a very gruff and stoic man, but has a hidden and dark sense of humor; his job involves a lot of people with power tools, and he’s already had to get stitches twice before, due to accidents; and I’m a HUGE worrywort with a tendency to think the worst-case scenario is happening.)
Me: *picks up call from my father’s cell phone* “Hey, Dad, are you working overtime again? The ribs are gonna take a while in the oven, so I was thinking of getting them started now.”
Dad: “I don’t think I’ll be home for dinner tonight, kiddo. I’m actually at the hospital now. One of the guys dropped his chainsaw, and… well, I lost a couple fingers.”
(He’s also always been incredibly calm in such situations; the last time he had to go the hospital, his co-workers told me he complained more about having to use his newspaper to staunch the blood!)
Me: “What?! Oh, my god! Let me call [Brother #1]; we’ll get [Brother #2] from work on the way and be right th—”
(Obviously I’m panicking, so it takes a bit for me to realize that he’s cracking up.)
Dad: “I thought you love to read. Why not read the calendar?”
(I look at the calendar on the fridge.)
Me: “Why you… It’s not a fair April Fool’s joke if it happens to you ALL THE TIME!”
(He brought me a chocolate bar to make up for messing with me like that, at least.)
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