365 Days (Part 1) | ✓

92. Bug Catcher

92. Bug Catcher: Write about insects.

I'm going to deviate from the prompt today and instead tell you what my lovely mother did to me for April's Fools.

Does anyone remember the day where I wrote about fear, and my biggest fear was geckos? Well, my mom knows that I have an instinctive reaction to kill any and all geckos. She has dealt with this irrational fear for years, and today, she used it for her own enjoyment.

I am a zombie in the morning. Probably because I stay up too late writing for 365 Days. My morning routine has not altered in any way for several years, so I guess I set myself up for disaster. Pranking someone is apparently a lot easier if you can predict their actions.

On this fine morning, I lurched out of bed, shut off the five different alarms I had set (for a higher success rate of me actually waking up), and stumbled downstairs. Mom had made our usual bagel. Every morning we each have half of a cinnamon raisin bagel or an English muffin. Once I saw it waiting for me on the counter, I shuffled over to the cabinet where the drinking classes are kept, and innocently opened it. And what should be there?

A gecko.

I reacted appropriately: I screeched and flew to the other side of the room, where I was safe from that monstrous creature. My brother, Zachary, was just entering the kitchen at this time. He saw the gecko and said, "Oh!" like someone had just been insulted.

"Mom, look," Zachary said.

And oh, my clever mother played dumb and asked innocently, "What? Look at what?"

"That!" I yelled, going through all sorts of scenarios. How long had the gecko been living in there? Had I unintentionally drank from a glass he had crawled over? We would have to wash every single cup in that cabinet if I was to ever have a drink of water again.

"What?" she repeated, while I jabbed my finger through the air in the general direction of the lizard.

At this moment, Zachary leaned closer to look it at the demon, and said in incredulity, "It's fake.

"Fake?!"

Zachary calmly stepped forward and picked up what was a plastic toy lizard. "It's fake."

I stared in disbelief at the figurine, my heart still thumping hard with fear. Then I understood. I slowly turned to my sweet, little mother, who was grinning in a way that could only be described as evil.

"April Fools!" she said.

"Mom," I said slowly.

She stared to laugh. I advanced toward her, still in disbelief and horror. "Mom."

"That was funny,"  she said.

I shook my head. On one hand I had just had a heart attack. On the other hand... she had gotten me good.

As I was debating the appropriate chastisement for frightening your daughter to death, Zachary opened the refrigerator to get the milk. As he did, his hand brushed against something and he yelped. Another plastic lizard, which had been perched precariously on the milk jug, clattered to the ground.

Zachary looked toward Mom with an expression that undeniably said, Really?!

She started to laugh hysterically -- it was the kind that spilled forth so heavily that she was gasping for breath. It was also irresistible. Me and my brother had to join in with roaring with laughter. She just couldn't get over that she had "gotten both of us."

I thought it was over then. After all, how many geckos did she have?

At least one more.

I do admire the amount of control my mother has in her pranks. She knew she would arouse suspicion if she told me to put out more napkins just then, so she strategically waited until lunchtime. It was a perfectly routine request. I was not suspicious at all.

As I pulled out the pack of napkins from the pantry, a third gecko slipped off of it and landed on my foot. Although my brain knew it was fake, I saw the shape of a gecko and shrieked, "Oh no! It's another one!" Before I knew it I had sprinted to the other side of the room.

My three-year-old niece, who was eating her lunch, went to pick it up. She examined the plastic lizard and, "It just a toy, Heenah," she said, shaking her cute little head with its pigtails. "It no real."