The Ultimate April Fool

Let the record show it is 9 a.m. on the morning in question. School began one hour ago.

Today began like any other day. I felt my way through the darkness of her room, sat upon her bed and rubbed her back as I gently cooed my good morning. When sufficiently awake I ventured, “It snowed last night.” Rubbing sleep from her eyes she sat up with tremendous excitement and gasped, “REALLY? Then we must have no school!” She giggled then the hammer fell. “April Fool!” I whispered feeling somewhat guilty to be dashing her hopes.

“MOM!” Though it was pitch black I am certain I saw her eyes roll.

Repeat with child #2.

On with the morning preparing breakfast, packing lunches, zipping backpacks, you know the school day drill. I looked up at the clock realizing my daughter had not made it to breakfast yet. With time quickly evaporating I barked an order for her to report promptly. She called back in a cheery voice, “Coming!”

Sipping my steamy cup of coffee and adjusting my glasses I had no idea what lay in store. She snuck up behind me and in her sing-song voice said, “Morning Mamma!” She wrapped her arms about my waist and gave the biggest hug. My heart warmed. Then I turned around. Big mistake.

Were those truly her sparkling blue eyes peering from amidst purple dots? She was covered in them. Let’s be clear: my daughter is thorough. When she takes on a project she does so wholeheartedly. Eyelids, ears, lips, down her neck, palms of her hands; any exposed skin was sufficiently covered with spots. My heart gave quite a start and then the peals of “April Fool!” rang out. My son laughed and pointed at me as they high-fived each other. They got me good. We had a great laugh remembering the preschool years when both kids pulled this same prank as a duo explaining they had the chicken pox. Washable markers are fabulous inventions…. Nothing a little soap and water can’t tackle, right?

Happily eating our breakfast I decided it was time to remove the spots. Katherine confirmed that indeed she had used a washable marker. Great – no sweat. However, as I began scrubbing her cheeks the spots were rather stubborn. Not wanting to rub her raw I paused and inquired, “When did you draw these?” “Oh, last night! And you didn’t even know!” Yeah, but what she didn’t know was the longer she allowed that washable marker to sit on her porcelain skin the more opportunity said skin had to absorb the color and lock in it in.

They were not coming off. We tried 2 soaps, creams, anything we could think of and only the smallest amount was coming off. Can I really send her to school like this? I thought. My inner conversation immediately switched into the justified Well, THIS-will-teach-her-a-lesson-she’ll-never-forget mom voice. Stay calm my mind screamed at me. Stay calm!!

By this point I am bracing for the worst. I am now visualizing answering the telephone as the Principal describes for me in disturbing detail how Katherine has punched out a little’s boy’s front teeth because he made some remark about her new look.

Back to the hear and now... Kate disappears to the bathroom to try new tactics and exact a bit more elbow grease. Meanwhile I have to keep Connor from coming unglued with satisfying belly laughter. He thinks this is just hilarious. To his credit he quickly collected himself. Growing up my mother always used to say I could slay anyone with my looks. My eyes must have been in top form this morning.

A few minutes later Katherine emerged from the bathroom with most of it diminished significantly. However, there were still tell-tale signs of something that had gone terribly wrong. Worried that this could launch her into an epic emotional spin I silently prayed, God, please …. She looked at Connor and me and stated matter-of-factly, “I’m not going to let a few spots get me down. If someone asks me what my spots are for I’ll simply tell them I was involved in a messy art project.”

I want to be just like her when I grow up. Hang on a second, I hear the phone ringing. Do you suppose it is the Principal???