Rarely, just rarely, mind you, can you put one over on me. You have to be slick and svelte. It helps if you’re one of my immediate family where the trust is implicit.

As most know. April Fool’s Day is my birthday and it is my signature event of the year. A good joke will be your reward for just waking up on the 1st. To have the tables turned on me is simply unheralded in my memory and certainly not in my lexicon. So I was nonplussed to be greeted by my daughter this morning who came over “because she loves me and wanted to visit”.

I have April Fooled everyone in my family to death over the last 25 or 30 years. My daughter (Princess) felt the need for a little comeuppance. I tell all that I do not believe in conspiracies. I stand corrected. She found a large, plastic melon which was extremely realistic and smuggled it into my winter broccoli which never materialized until Spring. On April Fool’s day, of course. Being paralyzed from the neck up, as most men my age, I blithely marched past it during my rounds in the garden for a week. The phone rang off the hook with calls from Heidi to Cupcake all week long. Nivan, one of Cupcake’s real estate agents came over and tried to lead me into it on the magic day but I was too preoccupied.

“So show me your purple broccoli, Buckwheat.” she cajoled. I walked out onto the deck with her and pointed down to the food patch.

“Over yonder. See all the purple?” And with that, I did an about face and left her standing there for my appointment with the American Red Cross for my phlebotomy.

When I found it a week later, I thought it was one of my grandson’s play balls. Next, I was convinced it had grown there under glass all winter and had somehow dehydrated over time. It only weighed about 8 ounces-surprisingly light.  By rights, it would have rotted but sometimes the brain overwhelms Occam’s Razor and you theorize endlessly on how it came to pass. Keep in mind, finding it a week after April Fool’s Day completely disconnected the two events or I might have caught on. I didn’t. It was an extremely good caricature considering it was plastic.

When I came in with it, Cupcake was all atwitter and helped to theorize on how it had come to pass. After several minutes she disappeared into the pantry and it sounded as though she had swallowed her tongue. She insisted something “had gone down the wrong pipe.”

A week later and Nivan showed up again. Considering I only see Nivan about once a month, this was history in the making. She, too, was intrigued about the mystery melon, asked to opine and weighed it in her hand and her mind. Each time this happened they would give each other a curious look. Once again, Cupcake scurried into the pantry and the muffled sounds of retching, or what seemed like it,  began again. Since I had Vets to help, I headed for the Nodroom and the computer. Within five seconds there were gales- nay, thunderstorms of laughter coming from the kitchen. With my poor hearing,  I decided not to investigate. Usually  I get the “It’s a real estate joke. You wouldn’t get it.”

Another agent (Deb) came over yesterday-now a full 26 days after the day of jesters and Fool’s- and I shared the mystery with her. She did everything in her power to keep a straight face from what I was told today. She never bites her lip and she did it constantly. Again, as I left through the sliding glass door to go out to the garden, another gully washer of laughter and choking sounds ushered me out. Enough of women. I had cucumbers to grow.

Today, Princess showed up and they all congregated in the kitchen talking about one thing and another. Finally Heidi picked up the melon and asked if I had read the writing on the bottom. Of course I hadn’t. There was none. Melons don’t have writing on them.

To give you an idea of  the width and breadth this despicable joke traveled, My daughter went down to California to visit her best friend and texted Cupcake daily to find out if I had figured it out. No only did it become interstate humor, one of our good friends is traveling in Romania and has been getting international updates texted to her daily. I’m sure Mirolena will be overjoyed to know the jig is up.

So with humor for all and malice toward none, my little Princess hornswoggled me at my own game- for 27 days no less. Conspiracies were hatched.   Updates were issued daily to Europe and California. I am humbled beyond words. I am also blessed with a year to come up with a suitable rejoinder.

Now, in all fairness to me, due to the extended exposure in the soil prior to discovery, the writing on the bottom had become almost invisible.   The Princess’ visit was to “re-ink” it so I could see it. Otherwise, I was prepared to cut into it and get the seeds out for Spring planting. I was spared that indignity. Thank goodness there are only 30 days in April.