My friend Wikipedia cites Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales as the debut of April Fool’s Day in print. What a weird holiday. Excuse me. “Holiday.” Its actual origins are lost in the mist of time, if my (single-click) research is accurate.
Nevertheless. The internet is awash with April Fool’s activities. I was amused by Google-Topeka and there’s this. Hee. On my way home, I caught an NPR gag about a 20-disk collection of underwriting lines.
S’s coworker brought his girlfriend in to work today. When the coworker left, the girlfriend requested that S instigate some sort of April Fool’s gag. She didn’t have any suggestions. The coworker reappeared and the girlfriend gave S this significant look: Well?
My favorite this a.m. was a good friend’s husband who changed his FB status to single. My friend: “What?!” A couple commenters didn’t quite seem to catch on, which made the whole thing weird. It’s funny, people!
Personally, I’ve never been a big perpetrator of pranks, on any scale. One of my coworkers told a story about her mother waking everyone in the house up in the middle of the night and telling them they were late for school, making breakfast, etc, and then revealing the prank, which I gather went over like le lead balloon. Similarly, my sister and I set my parents’ alarm for 1 a.m. on April Fool’s one year, hiking the volume all the way up. Midway into the evening of March 31, I had second thoughts. But like the magpie child I was, got distracted and forgot to turn off the alarm. The whole house woke up to the deafening alarm. Lead. Balloon
My career as a prankster began and ended that night, in part because I inadvertently made myself a partial victim of the prank. Perhaps one day I will embark on some diabolically clever prank. But for now, there’s this:
This year, The Sun reported it has developed the world’s first flavored newspaper page and invited readers to lick a square of newsprint “to reveal a hidden taste.” Just below the spot to be licked was the fine-print warning: “May contain nuts.”