The Fool’s Rules

Of course we observe the national day of silliness, April Fool’s Day. But I don’t go in for practical jokes and pranks. Frankly I don’t like being taken by surprise and I’m not very gracious about it. So, I just bend the rules and routine of a typical day and call it good.

Today we had dessert for breakfast. Not a nutritional rule was abided and I didn’t even feel guilty about it. The boys weren’t any more or less well-behaved. They didn’t appear to have any more or less energy. And they certainly did not seem any more or less brilliant.


Because we began our day up to our eyes in cake and whipped cream we closed the evening with scrambled eggs, bagels, yogurt, and mini muffins. It was all washed down with the quintessential breakfast beverage – O.J.

I liked the fool’s rules.

While we’re on the topic of food, I thought I would share with you a kidism of a couple of weeks past. My husband made the error of grabbing on to a cup of coffee he had just reheated in the microwave only to scorch himself. This provoked the all too awesome shout of, “Son of a B**ch!”

Yes, he said it. He said it loudly. We all sat in silence for a beat and then Mason squealed in laughter. Once the laughter subsided I expected something of a long discussion about the reasons we don’t usually use this word in front of moms and teachers. But instead Mason threw back his head as if to laugh once more but said, “You said Son of a Sandwich, ah ha ha ha hah a!” Then he slapped his knee and started laughing again.

Wish yesterday’s episode of road rage ended so well.