A Touch of Class

I wouldn't call it writer's block because I have had ideas floating around in my head for months. I am still at that stage of blogging where no matter what happens, no matter how trivial, personal, or dire, my first instinct is to think how can I put that in a post. All the time. I have been blogging for a year and a half, you'd think I'd get over that, but I haven't. So it isn't writers block that has kept my away. It is writer's repugnance. No, that is too strong of a word. It doesn't capture the right emotion. It's more of a repelling feeling. Every time I would think about sitting down and committing to writing to a post, I just felt like something pushing me away. Okay, okay, it was reading. I just wanted to read a book. Or several. Sorry, I know I am lame. But tonight, just as sudden as the repellation started, it was simply washed away. So here goes.

I don't really like to play practical jokes on people. I just feel uncomfortable about it. You know, what if they get mad, what if it goes wrong, what if it is a lot crueler than I think it would be. That is kinda my real fear. Sometimes I find humor in things that are insensitive and inappropriate. At girls camp my first year, my tent did a skit in front of the whole camp, and I was imitating the camp director, telling us a sensitive story from her past. I thought it was all in good humor, until I looked over at her and she was crying. I felt HORRIBLE. Fifteen years later, it still feels horrible. So I don't want to run the risk of feeling that gut wrenching, butt-twisting guilt for 15 years over one simple practical joke. But this year is the year of holidays for me. I am trying to be just a little more festive for each and every holiday- April Fools would be no exception.

So I started planning early. Early meaning the day before. March 30. It was subtle. A few well placed complaints of not feeling so well, tossing around the word 'nauseous' here and there, and then this all topped off with the occasional putting my hand on my stomach. I know, class A acting. Cody didn't think much of this. But that is okay, I didn't expect him to. That's how subtle I wanted to be.

April 1. After dinner. I asked if anyone would care to join me in the study for fruit or brandy. Not really. I actually suggested we all adjourn to the living room where we would play fat dog and watch TV. Once I had Cody hooked on watching Battlefield 360, I went upstairs, flushed the toilet, pulled out a pregnancy test, waited three minutes (I know you are amazed at my attention to detail. Well, either amazed, or maybe you just feel sorry for me), and then I shouted, "Oh No!" This is the part I started to get embarrassed. I mean, I felt really silly at the prospect of acting this whole gag out. I honestly did have second thoughts at this point. But I had wasted one pregnancy test by taking it out of the wrapper, so I was committed! I go down the stairs waving the pregnancy test around, trying to get Cody's attention (he is really into his WWII show), but finally he turns and says, 'what?'

I say, "I am expecting!" But this is the part I was not expecting. As I made my announcement, my eyes start to well with tears, my throat gets a bit constricted. Holy cow, I am an amazing actress. I honestly don't know where the tears came from. It probably should have been my first sign that this joke wasn't very tasteful, but really, since when have I ever had a grasp on things that are tasteful. This is coming from a girl who announced to her seminary class that she appreciated that the seminary building had 2-ply toilet paper in the bathrooms. Taste isn't my strong suit. Anyhoot, I digress.

Well, Cody just has a look of shock. "What do you mean?"

As if I wasn't clear enough waving the pregnancy test around saying I was expecting. "I'm pregnant!"

"What? How did this happen? Are you sure? Go take another test." I have to admire his clear thought and helpful line of reasoning.

"I don't have another test!" So this is the point where I expect him to start getting freaked out. You know, that look like he just found out that there really is a world of people under the ground that are at every moment trying to poke his bare feet with needles. But no, he just sits there with a silly little grin.

That would be sign number two that this joke is not classy.

So then I go upstairs, taking Claire with me trying to tell her to go down and tell daddy, "APRIL FOOLS!" but she had no interest. And you all know how obedient she is. So finally I went downstairs again, and Cody is still sitting there with that silly shocked grin, and he looks up and says to me, "Well, this is good. This is a good thing!"

Punch me in my kidney! It was at this point, finally, that I realize just how much this joke is insensitive, tasteless, and un-classy. The final blow was when he put up his hand to give me a congratulatory high five.

So I play this practical joke on him expecting him to freak out and he has the audacity to take it like an honorable, loving man and father. How dare he!! I felt like a heel. I told him it was a joke, and he also handled that with class and good humor. He is a good man (though later he told me his first thought, when he heard I was pregnant, was "hello Odyssey". That must have been what the silly smile was for).

As payment for making light of a wonderful, exciting, and sacred event such a pregnancy, I was blessed with having real nausea for three days this week. Nausea so strong, I could hardly move. I thought that was appropriate enough. I'd rather three days, rather than 15 years of payback.

On a positive note, my sister Monica also played an April Fools joke on my parents, calling them and telling them she was expecting. I know, so trite, right? Except it is true! Congratulations, Monica and crew, I am so happy for you!