The Worst Day of the Year

April 1st.

Hate.

It.

As the queen of gullibility, I fall for every prank on that dreaded day. Even the few times I actually remember the date, a little bit of doubt still lingers when I read all the pregnancy announcements on Facebook. I mean, maybe, just maybe, someone could really be pregnant, right?

The truth is, I've spent many a session at my shrink's office trying to come to terms with a cruel April fool's joke from my childhood. The memory alone sends shivers down my spine.

It was the morning of 5th grade science camp and my little 11-year-old self could hardly handle the anticipation. And of course, in all my excitement that morning, I somehow forgot it was April 1st.

But guess who didn't? That's right-- the two people a child should be able to trust more than anyone else in the world: my parents.

You should have seen their evil, menacing faces as they cruelly informed me that science camp had been canceled due to bad weather. However, it would be too painful to have seen my sweet, innocent face melt into utter destitution.

I cried. And yet they still kept a straight face. Who does that???

I'll tell you who-- those same two people, who 9 years later, have somehow kept those hearts of stone beating (if they have hearts at all).

This time, it was an email from South Africa saying they had been asked to extend their mission again-- 6 more months!

I was so mad! I yelled at my kids. I might have even cried a little. Sent a few angry texts. One was to Jonathan who responded back, "April Fools?"

AHH!!! How could I have fallen for that AGAIN???

Hate that day. Hate that day.

You wanna know who my first phone call was the next morning? My shrink's number is on speed dial.