To my adoring fans I can’t take credit for today’s post. It was actually written by my daughter, Princess Ohh!. I am transcribing it, and because I don’t believe in pure journalism, I will be making editorial comments along the way. If you don’t think that’s proper, I will be happy to introduce you to my daughter and you can tell her story.

So here goes; A week ago, we had a family meeting, and the subject was my children’s futures. The boys spoke of collage, and futures which would change the world, make tons of cash, or both. I was happy. However, my daughter told me she was thinking of rebelling.

“I’m going to buy a motorcycle, a blood red Harley with dragon flames on the tank and the skull of a unicorn over the handlebars.” Butch, but at least a little of the unicorn fantasy remains. Then corrected herself. “Dad you’re going to buy me a motorcycle because I’m not planning on getting a job. Oh, by the way as soon as I’m eighteen, I’m chancing my name to Spike.” I was taken aback; my little girl wanted a motorcycle and to be called Spike? When did I wake up in a bad movie from the nineteen-sixties?

It was about then I noticed the spider earrings. Creepy crawly things they were, hideous to look at, with tiny hairy legs and everything. They were in a catalogue lying on the floor beside my chair but considering the conversation, it really freaked me out. My daughter was wearing flower studs in her ears so I felt there might still be some hope. Then her voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Also, I was thinking about getting a tattoo, something tasteful like a heart.” As much as I’m against her permanently marking herself at her age I guessed a heart wouldn’t be too bad, and a little rebellion might stave off something bigger somewhere down the line. I agreed as long as it was only a heart. “But daaaad! A heart tattoo has to have an arrow going through it.” I rolled my eyes and wondered about the things other fathers were saying to their daughters. Rolling my eyes again I agreed to the arrow.

“Thanks Daddy.” Oh, Now it’s Daddy! “And I’ve got the perfect idea. It’ll be right here on my bicep, in red, green, blue and yellow.” I was curious about all the colors. “An anatomically correct picture of a heart, in color with the veins frayed as if it was ripped from the body. Maybe I’ll even have little spurts coming from the Aorta. With a barbed poison arrow going through the whole thing. It’ll be so cool.” She reached over and kissed me on the cheek. “You’re the greatest.”

Before I go on, I want to remind you all that last year for Christmas I got her a stuffed bear and a unicorn T-Shirt. I received the very same, You’re the greatest response, for that gift as well. Now, either my memory is shot and I’m hallucinating this whole thing because of those cheap generic cough drops I bought at Wal-Mart, or she has metamorphosized from Tinkerbell into Maleficent in six short months. Personally, I’m hoping for the first plan as I’ve not seen any broken cocoons around the house.

Also, I’m sure many of you are saying that I am the father and should lay down the law; No Tattoos, No Motorcycles and No Spike! I actually agree with all of you and would have said all that, and more, if I wasn’t in a complete state of shock, unable to move, feel, think, or preform Irish clog dancing. My little girl is only fourteen and she had thrown me in a complete state of Paralyzed Dad Panic. It’s a real malady, look it up. The only way out of this trouble is to have your wife state repeatedly, “It’s Only A Phase, She’ll Get Over It Soon,” over and over, while applying alcohol to the back of the throat, and eventually you’ll be able to move again. The thing is my wife wasn’t home. I was stuck and the worst was yet to come.

I managed a whispered, “Okay Honey, we’ll talk about it later.” Then wondered how much bourbon we had on hand. I know in was only nine in the morning, but if ever there was a medicinal purpose, this was it.

She leapt from her chair smiling and saying, “Great Dad, but hang on. I want to show you something.” Back in a flash, she tossed an odd ring in my hand. It was a silver skull with rubies for eyes and an emerald clenched in its teeth.

“It’s only a phase, it’s only a phase, it’s only a phase…” I thought until I calmed down. I took three deep breaths and said out loud, “This isn’t yours, is it?”

“Of course not. That belongs to Og. He wanted me to hold it for him for a little while.”

I finally was able to sit up a little and become a father again. “Honey, this is probably very expensive, and definitely a very creepy, ring. You can’t just keep this. You have to give it back.”

“Oh, I’m definitely going to give it back. Og just wanted me to keep it close to my heart until he could get me an official engagement ring.” I went straight back into shock. “And dad, you’ll just love Og. He’s just great, and almost seven feet tall. He’s got so many muscles. I mean his forearm is as thick as your thigh. Also, he’s got long black hair, that has something in it to make it look shiny and oily. He doesn’t wear it down though. He has the greatest man-bun in the world. It’s so big that he even cut a special hole in his helmet that his bun sticks through. Isn’t that great…”

I don’t know what else she might have said. My mind clouded and started thinking of other things; My mortgage is close to being paid off, and the bank is pretty reasonable if a payment was missed, everybody is healthy, I have great health insurance and all my outstanding loans are more than up to date, haven’t paid any interest on the credit cards in a while hmmmm. Then my mind said something I never thought I’d ever hear anybody say. “Yes, this would be a good time, if not a great time, to have a heart attack.” The real problem was it all made sense to me.

Then I was taken out of my stupor by my daughter’s laughter. She was saying something that, at first, I didn’t understand. Then it hit me. She was screaming “APRIL FOOLS” Confused, I said it was June? She laughed harder and told me to look in my wallet. There it was, dated April 1st 2020, A small coupon, signed by us both, stating she owed me an April fool joke to come later.

Up to this point I was the undisputed king of April Fools; I have been dethroned.

By the way, does anybody want to buy a fourteen-year-old daughter cheap? I warn you, she’s a lot like me.