I received the following message in a forwarded email in April 1993 when my daughters were both in college–one at OWU (Delaware, Ohio) and the other at Stanford (Palo Alto, California). The message was “I thought you might like to see what your other daughter has been up to lately.” My lips are sealed as to which one was guilty, but the perpetrators both know the scoop. email dated 4/1/93; subject: last night

Well, I don’t have much time to explain because I am in jail. Yes, you read correctly, I am in jail. They are allowing me one email message. Lucky for me, one message reaches like 7 people. Somebody please call my ‘rents for me . . .

Here’s the scoop. Last night after I went to this party and got Smashed off my ass, I got really hungry so I tried to walk to UDF for a milkshake. To make a very long story short, I couldn’t walk very well. I guess some guy helped me cross the street, but when I crashed at the corner, he didn’t help me any further. Needless to say, I was sprawling on the sidewalk yelling “chocolate malt . . . chocolate malt!” meanwhile wearing nothing but boots and a Sigma Chi flag.

Just my luck there’s a donut shop next to UDF, so all these cops came out and I’m rolling around like a damn bleached osteichthes. I am terribly ashamed, but I’ll admit it anyway–I got picked up for PROSTITUTION. Just call me “Vivian,” only it didn’t quite work out like “Pretty Woman” . . . more like “Drunk Girl.”

Anyway, this is my last email, and they told me to make it quick, so I’d better go. You should see the shit they gave me to wear–it just does not flatter. Especially with my boots. Well, I’ll see you guys when I dig myself out.

Postscript: So what would YOU think if you received a similar one from one of your own? At first I was very alarmed. I just couldn’t believe either of my really intelligent daughters–the babies that I had raised to be such ladies much like myself–could have gotten herself into such a mess. Then I read and re-read the subject line (last night) and date (April 1) trying to figure out where I’d gone wrong. Too slowly it finally dawned on me what it meant.

APRIL FOOL’S DAY !!!!  I’d been had–big time! I don’t know when I ever felt soooooooooooo relieved. And proud of the sense of humor obviously passed on. (Btw, you probably already know what “osteichthes” means but I had to look it up. It’s a bony fish.)