April Fools

My attempt at partaking in April Fool’s was an epic fail.
The night before, the twins and I had concocted a plan to get revenge on their older brother for all the times he’s placed a doll by Master Five’s head while he’s sleeping.

Before they went to bed they gathered up all Miss Five’s dolls and teddies into a pile ready for me to carry out the joke once Master Eight was asleep.

The idea was to arrange them all around his head – something he would find "disgusting" – but do you think I remembered to carry this out?

I promptly went to bed and forgot about it and the next day I awoke to disappointed twins and a gleeful Master Eight. 

That night I decided to have my own attempt at pulling off a prank. I had bought a large bag of mussels for dinner and decided to make a mussel and surimi pasta salad. I’m never too enthused about finding a crab inside a mussel but this night I decided it might be funny to watch the boys’ reaction if they found a crab on their dinner plate. Miss Five, strangely, a fan of eating crustaceans, would not be fazed. But do you think I could find a single crab just when I needed one?

Giving up, I proceeded to dish up the salad, which included boiled egg slices, corn, celery and seeds.

By the time I joined the kids at the table they were dissecting the mussels and naming their anatomy.

“Here’s the tongue!” exclaimed Miss Five.

“Oh and here’s my one’s tongue,” said Master Five, holding up an elongated, curved shape which he’d just detached.

“I think you’ll find that’s the willy,” I couldn’t resist saying.

“Ew!” Master Five threw it onto the plate of Miss Five who promptly ate it.

“Oh and here’s his poo. I’m gonna eat the poo!” she delightedly yelled, having decided they were all boys and popping that in her mouth too.

By now they were finding eye balls, wings and …

“Look Mummy, this one even has a tail,” shouted Master Five flapping his dissected mussel around by a long string which was miraculously still attached.

“That’s enough,” I ordered watching in horror as bits of mussel, corn, pasta and the like went flying around my dining room.

“Oh look, here’s another penis,” he added, having obviously been taught the correct term somewhere along the line.

He threw that too onto the plate of Miss Five, who must have had enough and chucked it back in the original salad bowl.

At this stage I was still serving up my own salad which was looking less and less appetising.

Avoiding all the random body parts, I continued dishing up until I discovered a stray crab that had somehow got past my scrutiny and made its way into the salad.

At this point I promptly absconded and left them to it.

The joke was on me.