The Fool

Because I deliver the newspapers, the same ones I write for, I get up Friday mornings and immediately turn on the coffee maker that my wife sets up for me the night before. She’s nice like that.

Then I head for the shower.

By the time I get my shoes on, the coffee has finished making its choking sound, and I’m ready to pour myself a cup. But not on this day.

Since it is dark when I get up and can only vaguely see my coffee cup, I didn’t notice anything was off. But the first sip told me I had just taken a mouthful of a problem and couldn’t hurry fast enough to spit.

Then I turned on the light to discover the problem. Instead of coffee grounds, my wife had replaced them with dirt.

“Ingenious,” I think as I dumped and cleaned everything to begin the process over.

Once on the road and delivering the papers, I stopped at a place and accepted a small box of donuts. It wasn’t until I had finished the first half of my route that I opened the pastries.

A vegetable tray! I munched on the contents the remainder of the morning.

Come nighttime, and I am tired, so I climbed into bed to learn she got me again. This time my wife short-sheeted the bed.

Here’s the rub — I never got to pull even one April Fools Day prank.

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