My daughter has an evil streak. I admit I kind of like it. A couple of years ago, she perpetrated the greatest prank in the universe. I may have put her up to it, but I’m pleading the fifth.
Anyway, it all started when I got a “tween kit” from Kotex, a nifty little pamphlet that contained coupons and suggestions on how to talk to my tween about first periods. Which was weird because my only tween was the Padawan, and I always considered it his teacher’s job to teach him about punctuation, but whatever. We got the little packet, and an idea began to take shape.
Girl-child immediately found a piece of junk mail addressed to her dad. She carefully removed the address label and affixed it to the packet with a bit of glue. Then she mixed it in with the day’s mail and waited for her prey.
When my husband came home, he flipped casually through the mail. And then he stopped, casting furtive glances to left and right. His brow crinkled, and I heard him mutter “Why do they think I want to know this?” as he began to hyperventilate. He fell for it, believing for a moment that Kimberly-Clarke in all its wisdom had singled him out to have The Talk with his daughter, and wondering desperately how to get out of it. What a glorious day!
Was it cruel? Maybe a little. Unusual? Not for this family.
Well done, Girl-child.