Fool's GoldI know I mention it a lot, but I love my family. Here's yet another reason why I think they are some of the most enjoyable people on the planet.
April Fools is a favorite holiday for my mother and my kids. In fact, they've been including the auspicious day in their prayers (please bless that it will get here fast and that we'll laugh all day long). The pressure was on. For my kids I gave them banana splits for breakfast, then taught them the classic French game where you try to stick a fish on someone's back, then yell 'Poisson d'Avril' and laugh hysterically. This game was a hit, except they wanted to say it in English, and somehow 'Fish of April' is just not as funny.
But I digress. The real story, the real blog post here is the one you're wondering about. Why on earth is there a picture of a man in a yellow speedo running through the house???
Let me 'splain.
For the last 20 years, my mother has had a scapegoat. Diet Coke open in her cart at the store? Wasn't her, it was the Man in the Yellow Speedo (MITYS). Bag of chips consumed? Him again. He was the convenient answer to any bad behavior she didn't want to fess up to. This MITYS has been confusing poor innocent checkers at grocery stores all over the west for many years.
Thanks to my amazing sister Andrea, her intrepid husband Tyler, and the awesome purchasing power of Amazon, the MITYS was able to make his first live appearance.
We had just bowed our heads for the prayer of our wacky dinner where we have to eat spaghetti and salad with crazy kitchen utensils, when the MITYS burst through the back door, snatched up the pot of spaghetti, and disappeared through the front door. It all happened in a flash; all I had time for was a shot from behind. Perhaps that's best, though, for everyone involved!
I think my favorite part was watching him stash the pot in the garage, grab his pre-hidden ratty bathrobe, and run up the street at lightening speed, barefoot. Only Tyler.
The kids were a bit mystified by the whole thing, but they didn't let that dampen their enthusiasm for eating spaghetti (recovered from the garage) with whisks and beaters.