Everyone who knows me knows that I’m all about the foolishness. It’s an inherited trait. I come from a very long line of comedians. My mom was incredibly funny and so was my daddy. My son has inherited that thing, too. So has my granddaughter. Mama’s sisters and brothers are hilarious. Our family reunions are all about the laughter and I wouldn’t have it any other way. We love to laugh because we’ve learned that there is indeed something to smile about in nearly every situation.
Anyone who knows me will also tell you that I can be petty. As a matter of fact, a good friend of mine posted a video on my Facebook page last night with the hashtag “petty” that had me howling. I’m not “hateful” petty, just “funny” petty. My sister saw it and cracked up. She said, “Yeah, that’s you.”
I have always poked fun at people and things. Never, ever anything that will destroy your self-esteem or make you feel bad about yourself, but I love making people realize that there really is a smile in almost everything. Laughter is good for the soul. You have to learn to laugh at yourself, your mistakes, and life in general because the pains of life will find you and kill you if you’re not careful.
That One April Fools Day
I had stopped actively participating in April Fools pranks many years before I pulled the last one on my ex-husband. Mama would call and pull a prank or two, but by the time I pulled that last one, so much had died inside me that I didn’t even have the energy to think up anything funny. As soon as the words left my mouth, though, I knew what I had done had not been funny at all. It was cruel. I had hurt him deeply.
It was April 1, 2010 and that day just happened to be one of the days that he loved me. You see, he had the kind of love that was present one day, gone the next. I didn’t wake up with the idea of pranking him, but when it came to me, I carried through. I called him at work and told him that I had been looking for our marriage certificate, but couldn’t find it. I went on to tell him that I had called Webster Parish in Louisiana (since that’s where we were married) and they had told me that they had no record of our marriage. That part was true. I had indeed been looking for our marriage certificate and couldn’t find it. I knew I likely wasn’t going to find it because I had lost it one of those times I had left him and had no clue where it was.
Anyway, I had called the clerk of court in Webster Parish and she had told me that there was no record on file, but then I remembered that I had gotten the marriage license in Caddo Parish because that’s where I was working at the time. They had it. I didn’t tell him that. Instead, I told him that since the state of Louisiana showed no record of our marriage, we weren’t really married. I told him that that meant he was free and so was I. I told him that all those times he had told me he didn’t want to be married to me had actually been a reality. He was quiet for what seemed an eternity. Then he started to cry. I didn’t say a word. I just listened to him cry. After he said, “Tre, are you serious? You’re really not my wife? We’re really not married?”, I said, “Just playin’, April Fools!”
For a minute he didn’t say anything; neither did I. He finally said, “Tre, that hurt me.” I still didn’t say anything. Finally, he said, “I’ll see you when I get home.” I said, “Okay, bye.”
No Apologies, No Words
I never apologized to him for that prank. We never mentioned it again. I was wrong. It was cruel. One of the things my mom always preached to us was that two wrongs don’t make a right. In hindsight, I was okay with the end result because back then, there was nothing between us but bitterness and hatred so I wasn’t concerned with the fact that I had hurt him so deeply.
I hate that I did that, but it’s where I was at the time.