Sarah Nigbor

Normally I don’t get into April Fool’s Day, but this year, I woke up with a mischievous glint in my eyes. Maybe I’m starting to feel like myself again. Or maybe I’m just sick of people (my loving family) trying to trick me on April Fool’s Day. This year, I wasn’t going to get got, by golly. I was going to do the getting.

Playing a trick by myself wasn’t an option. I had to enlist the help of the two leading ladies in my life: My mother and my daughter. They were more than willing participants, being that it was the girls against the boys in the Nigbor Family April Fool’s War. I am competitive. I don’t take losing well.

If you’ve followed this column for a while, you may know my mother broke both her hips (in separate occasions one year apart) in the last few years. The first time, a cart at Menard’s and a pothole took her out. The second time, a Rototiller brought her down. We are hoping there is no third time, but my unsuspecting husband and sons didn’t know that. Tee hee.

After picking up Carolina from school, the plan was set in motion. I directed Carolina to text my husband, “On our way to the hospital. Mom broke her hip again.” You may find this cruel, but the “victim” in this joke was giggling to herself as she stood by her phone, waiting for the possible texts/calls that might come in from her concerned son-in-law. My mother was ready to play up the pain and keep the ruse going.

It didn’t take long for Shane to respond: “Oh no! I hope she’s OK! How did it happen this time?” We didn’t keep him going for too terribly long, because even I’m not that cruel. Plus, I’m impatient, remember? I wanted to gloat. We called him shortly thereafter and informed him that Dear Mother was not in the hospital with a broken hip. She was waiting for us at her apartment to take her shopping. A few seconds of stunned silence were followed by “Damn it, you got me!” As Carolina and I laughed uproariously, Shane harumphed on the other end and said it wouldn’t have surprised him if Mom had broken her hip again, considering she likes to try DIY things she knows she shouldn’t, such as standing on stools to change lightbulbs. I informed him that since she moved into assisted living, she has turned over a new, safe leaf and will not pull such stunts anymore, therefore breaking her hip will not be possible (knock on wood).

As he sulked on the other end of the line, I threw him a bone. “Well, you could fool the boys and tell them Grandma broke her hip again.” This cheered Shane up immensely and my mother being an excellent sport, laughed when she heard the new plan.

However, karma came and bit these two impish adults with sixth-grade senses of humor in the butt. After Shane informed our oldest son, who was at work, that poor Grandma broke her hip and that he’d have to go spend the night with her sick cat, who needed a suppository for constipation shoved you know where, our kind and considerate son immediately informed his boss there was a family emergency and took off toward River Falls to help the constipated feline. Oops. Our other two sons were so concerned they wanted to go to the hospital immediately to visit Grandma Carol and volunteered to live with her in her apartment during her recovery.

Well, color me feeling like a jerk. Though we all had a good laugh about it later (my mom included), we felt bad that poor Ethan thought he had to doctor a constipated cat and took off work early (I’ll blame Shane for that one). It just showed us what loving, considerate children we have while their immature parents played April Fool’s jokes. I guess the joke was on us. But I still got my husband, which brings me interminable joy. Thanks for playing along, Mom!