The only April Fool played on me this morning was a very strange half-hour in which Dalton sat across the table from me staring mightily at me as he slowly ate his bowl of Rice Krispies.
He just kept staring.
I did everything I could do to ignore him. I read the paper, I played with my phone. I drew patterns in the cinnamon left on my plate from my piece of cinnamon-sugared toast, and finally when I could take no more of his attention, I got up and stormed out of the kitchen in a huff.
Behind me Dalton called out,
But Bridget! You said you loved Rice Krispie STARES!
(This was based on one of the first and last times I ever tried to read lips. I just can't do it. Things get hilariously fucked up and then they come back to haunt me years later, now, don't they?)
