I woke up this morning never having wanted to go to class less in my entire life.

Something about the combination between a pounding headache with no pain killers, senioritis putting me in a choke-hold a year too early, spring around the corner, and it being a Monday made me hit the snooze button an unnecessary number of times and lengthen my shower...many much minutes. Oh, and also being engaged. A lot of that behind my lackluster performance in school as of late.

But I did it. I put a sweatshirt on over my pajama top and pulled shoes over my fuzzy slipper-socks. I dragged myself to German class. I participated. I smiled.

Jared always walks me from German to my Doctrine and Covenants class. As we met halfway between I sat and told him, "Jared, I need an attitude adjustment. I'll go to my next class, but I already have my seat picked out in the back corner where I can sit and draw, because it's pointless to try to pay attention anymore. And I don't even like to draw!"

And good, academic, med-school-bound Jared said point-blank, "Then don't go. Let's just skip the rest of our classes today and go play."

Jared doesn't say that sentence. Ever. So I took him up on it. We paid his Mission President a visit (oooh, causeless rebels!), bought squirt guns and water balloons at the dollar store, had lunch at der Wienerschnitzel (I know--we would), and set out to play pranks. And learned that we should never play pranks.

My lil' brudder told us a few weeks back that if you eat two bananas really fast and then down a liter of Sprite, you'll start foaming uncontrollably at the mouth. So as any good children would do, we grabbed the supplies and set off to visit my dad at work. We envisioned a bunch of old men sitting around the break-room table, confusedly trying to suppress the foam falling from their faces.

The April Fools'-proof plan was to casually offer them all bananas and then ask if they'd help us with a project to see how fast they could each chug a can of Sprite. But we thought we'd try it out in the parking lot first, just to make sure it would work. Next thing we knew we were massaging our bloating bellies. There was some definite painful chemical-foam-reaction going on down in the stomach, but nothing out the mouth. Until even weirder things started happening and we started laughing and crying. Still no foam, though. Perhaps it was because we only ate one banana,  though.

Luckily, Dad was the only one working through spring break in the office. We decided it wouldn't be funny to just get him, so we stayed a bit and then went home to force our food upon the plot-planting lil'brudder himself.

His eyes went wide as we walked in with our supplies, and he gasped, "Are you really going to do it?"

"No," we smirked, "you are."

To which he told us it was all a prank. He'd started looking up YouTube videos and discovered it was a all just a trick to get people to throw up.

Good thing we only ate one banana. The only people we pulled one on today were ourselves.

Married life is going to be full of lots of bomb-diggity baaaaad ideas.
As opposed to single life, which was only full of good ides...
It's always a good time.

Playing Hookie


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