When you grow with a father like ours, it’s hard not to love April Fools. My father has been and will probably always be a jackass (and I say this with nothing but love and admiration for the man). Our father was never serious about anything and very sarcastic, hence my sisters and I are very sarcastic. Just to give you a smidge of how we grew up, let me give you an insight.

Ok, so my dad has a sick sense of humor. He would do things like fart under the blankets and then push us underneath and hold us under until he was convinced we’d breathed in all the fumes. On another occasion, I was sitting outside with my friends, when he walked by and farted. LOUDLY. He turns to us, shakes his head and (translation) “so young and yet so disgusting.” That was the kind stuff we grew up with. I distinctly remember having a food fight one night because he was just bored. And yes, we (my sisters and I) ended up cleaning up his mess. He also liked to stick his wet finger in our food to see if it was hot. -_- I can go on and on about my dad’s “jokes” growing up but I also have to give it up to him, he was very thoughtful. For every “joke”, every “fart”, he left us notes on our door, to have a nice day at school or simply to say “I love you”.

I can’t take anything seriously now as an adult and I will thank my dad for that. I love you dad. Happy April Fools Day…oh and Easter.

Our family always had a playful element to them. Our father’s side was a bit brutal. I, unfortunately, didn’t get to know my grandfather, but my dad talks about him as if he was a jokester when they grew up. He’d always hide our aunt’s shoes right before they went off to work or to school or he’d fart under the blanket and (almost) suffocate one of his children to breathe his farts (beautiful, right?). And my dad decided to take on the jokester part of the family once his father passed away. He didn’t only joke around with us, no, it did NOT stop there. There was once when he thought that he saw one of his nieces in the grocery store and decided to ‘rob’ her purse. Come to find out that it was NOT her (That’s what he gets!).

You’d think that us sisters would get tired of it after so many years, but he still finds ways to joke around with us. Whether it’s throwing us a glass or two whenever we’re washing dishes (and no, we never dropped one) or if it was something as simple as messing around with our crap. He’s still the jokester that we all love and care for. It’s one of the many reasons why we’re all so sarcastic (and can never take anything too serious).


There aren’t too many jokesters in the family. There were a couple in my dad’s side and they happened to be my grandfather (who passed away when I was young) and my dad. I don’t have many memories of my grandfather, but my aunts (his daughters) constantly tell stories of how my grandfather would notice a young woman looking very put together and how he would walk behind them and fart, only to turn to the young women and accuse them of being disgusting. He would mostly do it to my aunts’ friends and classmates, which would embarrass my aunts. Many say my dad has taken after him, that he’s now considered the clown of the family. Thankfully, he didn’t embarrass me that way. Growing up, he would do little things: tug at my feet while I was asleep, cover my mouth and nose to keep me from breathing, throwing bones onto my plate, and stealing my napkins at the dinner table.
I enjoy watching pranks and hearing the jokes but not so much doing them myself. It’s like an art, really, and a type of genius—two things I don’t have. Also, patience in planning. I really admire those three characteristics and at least I can be the audience to enjoy and appreciate the work.


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