Punk'd

So for April Fools I was determined to punk my husband but what to do? The radio had been blaring all morning about April Fool jokes and make sure you watch out for those tricksters! He would definitely know if I tried something. But still--I was determined.

We got up fairly early on Saturday morning and drove out to Queens so Brad could go to the same hairdresser hes been going to for I-can't-tell-you how long. The plan was I was going to drop him off, I'd park, and then I'd walk around and maybe go get a coffee or something. Well, the planets or gods or something must have been on my side, because after I dropped him off I found a parking spot on the same street a little ways up from the salon, and a cab was right in front of me, driver still inside. "Oh no. This is just too good," I thought. So I grabbed my cell phone and speed dialed him. He picked up the phone and I began my Oscar-caliber performance. "Baby-you-have-to-come-outside-a-cab-backed-into-me-when-was-parking-and-the-crazy-guy-is-yelling-at-me," I hyperventalated into the phone. "Oh-my-god, oh-my-god, are you hurt? Are you okay? I'm coming right now." Click! And he hung up the phone. I got out of the car and walked closer to the salon, but was standing in the street so when he'd see me, he'd also see the car behind me and the cab right in front of me. A couple of seconds go by and Brad rushes out of the salon, running up to me, his hair all wet and a hat on his head. I almost felt bad. He runs up to me, and I look at him, big dopey smile on my face, and say, "April Fools!" Luckily Brad is a very good sport and appreciated how perfect the set up was and didn't kill me. He summed it up perfectly: "I love you, but you're evil!" Heeheeheehee! The look on his face before and after was priceless. Brad got punk'd!