Back From The Mountains

I had occasion today to relive one of my favorite pranks. The adult daughter of a couple we have known for years has written friends of her parents, including my wife and I, for pictures and other reminders of their mother in days gone by. The mother is soon to celebrate one of those landmark birthdays and they want to have some fun as a family remembering the good times over the years. As my wife was gathering some pictures, I thought of something I had a hand in, an evil scheme that popped out of my brain and screamed for immediate attention.

My wife and I were working with a local Hospice organization with hundreds of other volunteers in preparation for their huge annual garage sale, their biggest money making event of the year. The woman in question brought by a jacket and asked us to take it to the sale. She just happened to say something about it that caught my ear. She said that it was her husband’s favorite and he had worn it for years. She didn’t like the coat and complained that it was showing signs of age. By secreting the coat out of the closet and donating it to Hospice, she could get rid of it without him noticing. She even schemed to cover her tracks. When he came to miss it, she would tell him that he must have left it somewhere, in a restaurant, perhaps.

I’m sorry, but we men take enough abuse from wives and work. I couldn’t believe that she would do that to her man. Toss out his FAVORITE sport jacket! So I came up with a plan to get it back to him. It was easy, really. I devised a letter from the hospice organization in our area rejecting the donation. My phony letter head was spot on! The recipients were upset! They found our friends’ address in a letter in a pocket and decided to vent their disgust!  The jacket had been rejected because of its sorry condition. More to the point, people who would donate an article of clothing that should just be discarded ought to be ashamed. The shoppers who attended the sale were looking for bargains and would be offended by trash! I signed the letter, Randy Bottoms, just for a final flourish!

We put the coat and letter in a box and mailed it to her. She called my wife a few days later fuming! How dare that organization treat her that way! After all, the coat was not THAT bad. Further, she was going down to the main office to give that Bottoms character a piece of her mind!  In the end, my wife had to set her straight. Of course, she blamed me.

It has probably been fifteen years since this gem went down. To tell you the truth, I’m still looking over my shoulder a bit. You never know when she may get her revenge.