Twice Fooled, Thrice Shy

by adminwp in Ruth Hackford-Peer | 0 comments

Riley is the perfect age for April Foolin’, so Kim and I did some plannin’.

We took orange Kool Aid, screwed open the faucets in the bathroom and the kitchen and poured — straight up — the fluorescent powder inside. Then we cut holes in both of the boys’ straws and slit holes in the sides of the plastic cups they were to drink from.

The boys were playing downstairs when I hollered that it was time to wash their hands for dinner. They ran into the bathroom, and the next thing we heard was: “Holy crap! Moms, you had better come here NOW!” We ran downstairs and found the rust colored water pouring from the drain.

Kim, who wouldn’t win an Oscar, announced, “Oh drat. I think we have rusty pipes. I guess we will need to call a plumber after dinner.” She then muttered under her breath, “Like we can afford that!”

I told the boys they’d have to wash upstairs tonight and they bounded upstairs to do so.

Of course, they found the same Kool Aid rust draining from the pipes upstairs.

When we finally sat down for dinner, Riley couldn’t keep still. “Mamma, can we drink our water? What are we to do? When are you calling the plumber? If you need to borrow my birthday money, you can. I want to make sure our water is safe.”

Kim’s “April Fools!” pronouncement was a bit premature given our plans. But it was clear that Riley’s anxiety wouldn’t let us move on until he was ASSURED that life as he knows it wouldn’t change because one day he turned on the water to find it dripping orange.

His anxiety quickly turned to laughter, though: “You got me. You got me good.”

We settled into dinner. The boys kept trying to drink their water out of their straws, but to no avail. Neither kid said anything; they just kept fiddling with their cups and their straws. Finally, Kim asked if they were having a problem with their straws. They said yes and Kim took the lids off and told them to drink their water without a straw.

When they tried, of course, water poured out of the holes we slit on the cups’ sides.

“Do you boy have holes in your chins?”

Riley was rolling with laughter. “April Fools. You got me twice.” Casey just looked at us like we were from a different planet.

It was time to eat their stir fry. “I’m afraid to touch it. There might be an April Fools joke in it.” We assured them that the tricks were over for the night and they could eat.

Just a couple of nights later we all gathered for dinner and sat down for “squeezes.” We each get a moment to talk about what we are thankful for, the best part of our day, or whatever is on our mind. Then we hold hands and give each other a good, hard squeeze.

When it was Kim’s turn, she talked about how she was thankful that same sex couples could now marry in Iowa. Because Riley was staring at her with awe written all over his face, she went on. She told him how the court had — that very day — decided that it wasn’t fair for gay people not to be able to marry.

“In Iowa?” he asked. This was technically a violation of squeezes since you aren’t supposed to interrupt unless it is your turn.

But Kim ignored the violation. “Yes, sweetie. Today. In Iowa.”

Riley just grinned. “No, Mamma. You aren’t going to fool me three times. I know that it is April, and I KNOW that you cannot get married in IOWA.”

Dinner was interrupted by a quick trip to Google, which confirmed that Kim wasn’t just fooling him.

He was stunned. Iowa. But as understanding settled in, the grin spread across his face. “I can’t believe it. Wow. Maybe you’ll be able to get married in Utah someday. Or at least, maybe some day you’ll be human.”

He had no idea how insightful his words sounded to me. Maybe someday in Utah I’ll be human. I think he’s right. After all, I can marry in Iowa.