April Fools' Day 1987

The year was 1987 and I was ready to play a really good April Fools’ joke on my mother. My lovely wife was very pregnant and was getting more pregnant every day. In fact, she was measuring extra pregnant. Our doctor, who was located directly across the street from our apartment at the time was very young and just getting started in the doctor business. He had delivered a few babies and in just 5 more months, he would deliver our first child.

But he noticed that Sheri was measuring a bit big. He was concerned about the buildup of extra amniotic fluid so he scheduled us for our second ultrasound on the 2nd of April. Knowing that my mother would not remember the exact date of the ultrasound, I pretended that it was April 1. So I called her up that afternoon. I told her we had just come back from the ultrasound and that the problem was bigger than we’d thought. I told her, “It’s twins!” She swallowed the joke hook, line, and sinker (as we Minnesota ice fishermen say). I let her believe it for a while then sprung the traditional, “April Fools!” on her.

I remember her words like it was yesterday. “Don’t do things like that. It might come true!” My reply was, “Yeah, right mom.” Little did I know what was waiting for us to discover the next day.

As Sheri lay on the examining table, exposing her giant belly, the ultrasound tech readied the sensor with clear gel. I stood beside my wife about to get a good look at what I’d done to her just four months earlier. I remembered the night and never forgot that birth control only works if you actually use it. The words, “Honey, I think we’re safe…” still rang in my ears.

The technician placed the device on her belly and almost immediately I saw two very distinct round head-shaped objects. For a moment I thought it might be a split screen. One screen was showing a view from on top, the other from the side. But then reality told me that there was only one device and that those heads were moving asymmetrically. This all happened in about two seconds. When the truth got through my thick Scandinavian skull I srealized what I had done to my lovely bride. There were two babies in there. Instantly my knees gave out and I fell backward onto a well-placed stool. I hit the stool and shot backward about two feet, my back slamming the wall. Startled, the technician said, “Are you alright?” My instant reply was, “It’s twins, isn’t it?” “Yep,” was her reply. I began to laugh. Sheri began to cry.

“Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t have the 1:00 appointment. I diagnosed her with triplets,” said the technician. I’m not sure that’s how that works but I was grateful, nonetheless. More on those triplets later.

So, we got into our humble little two-door Pontiac Sunbird and drove back to our little apartment in Richfield. Sheri called her mother with the news, then I called mine. My mother didn’t seem surprised. In fact, she was more surprised to find out they were girls as we have an overabundance of boys in my family.

Skipping many pregnancy stories I’ll tell later, on delivery day at St. Mary’s Hospital in Minneapolis we met those triplets. And we met 5 other sets of twins. There were so many multiples in the nursery that one of the local news stations did a story on it. There were only 2 single births in the nursery at the time. After a couple days of hospital rest our adventure as parents began. Our girls are now 20 and a lot of April Fools’ days have gone by. But I’ll always remember the joke that backfired.

I Win!

So I knew I was nearing the 5,000th hit mark soon. So just a little bit ago I logged on to see how many hits on this site I've had. Inadvertently I became the 5,000th visitor. That means I am officially the least visited site on the computerized internets.

If you click on the hit counter, it will take you to a special page. On that page you'll see a link to a map. Click on that and then click on the number 100 below it. That will show you the last 100 hits and where they happened in the world. I get the biggest giggle from the number of hits I get from Muslim countries Googling the word "brazziere" and my story associated with it. I'm not sure what to make of that. I also get a lot of hits on the Minnesota State Trooper story obviously by folks looking for something else.

My website is just like the small town I grew up in. Everyone in Minnesota has driven through Buffalo, but few people have ever stopped. Maybe that's changes over the years. But I remember many a conversation that went like this:

"Where yoos (you) from?"

"I'm from Buffalo."

"I've been through there." 

And if I could read minds the conversation would continue, "...on my to someplace much more interesting. Like Willmar.

Thanks for visiting. Even though most visits are less than one second in length and are made by mistake (or a curious Muslim Jr. Higher), I appreciate the hits. It means that about 13 of you are very interested in seeing what new injury or embarrassing situation I've scored. I'm honored.

A Grand Day

My day started out just like most days and will probably end that way. But it’s what happened in between that makes my life interesting. I’m plunking away at my computer when I get a call from one of my daughters. In an excited voice she was describing the scene taking place in front of our house. She first heard loud shouting and swearing, an obvious argument. She looked out the window to find a small man on the lawn with a large police officer standing near him with his gun drawn.

Then the place was quickly swarming with several law enforcement vehicles from the local police department, the sheriff’s department and the California Highway Patrol. Apparently this man had done something really bad as they all pointed their guns at him. After getting him into the car the officers started to search the area. It was garbage day today so they peeked into our garbage cans, over our fence and in our shrubbery. Perhaps they were looking for the reason they all took their guns out. I hope they found it.

I asked Elissa if she was near the window because I didn’t think that was a safe place to be. “It’s all over now, dad. But I saw the whole thing. It was really wild.” Although I don’t think she learned any new bad swears (she knows most of them by now) I was concerned this all happened within close shooting distance of my nice house we just had painted and re-roofed (and my daughter). I would not have been happy with bullets messing up the new roof (or my daughter).

I remembered it was St. Patrick’s day so I took a friend, Mr. Michael Raymond Nunan, one of the finest and kindest gentlemen ever to grace this fine planet of ours, to a lunch of poorly prepared corned beef and cabbage. I decided that I would make it for dinner, but mine would be much better. I remembered that it was my Grandmother Ruth’s birthday. May she rest in a well-deserved heavenly peace. I also remembered it was our dearly departed Basset hound, Humphrey’s, birthday. And I could not forget my Chicago friend, Steve Luce, was also having another birthday. I sent him a gift but I have not heard whether he liked it or not. I’m on pins and needles, Steve!

I also remembered that my grandfather, Carl (Pops), would dye his beard green every St. Patty’s. He didn’t have a drop of Irish blood in him. But we looked forward to the spectacle every year. When I was young I would die of embarrassment if a friend found out that crazy old coot in the green beard wandering around downtown Buffalo was my grandfather. But as I grew older, it was something to brag about. “So, that’s where you get it,” friends were quoted as saying. When I asked them to define what ‘it’ was, no one could offer a good answer.

A hot air balloon almost landed in our parking lot.

I stopped at our local Rayley’s (grocer) on my way home from work. I picked up the essentials for corned beef and cabbage. I got in my van and waited forever at a light. I waited so long that I entertained myself by staring at how fast the moon was rising compared to a telephone wire. I started staring at it when it was above the top of the moon and the light turned green when it was past the bottom. Clearly I must have waited a half hour or more for the moon to move that much.

At the next light I was first at the starting line. Across the road from me, also stopped, was a woman my age in the driver’s seat. Her passenger was an older fellow, probably her father. She was pinching her nose. I had the time to think this one through. Either she had a bloody nose and was out of tissue, or her father had eaten corned beef and cabbage for lunch and had either floated a wicked air biscuit or crapped his underpants. When the light turned green she was still holding her nose leading me to think it was a solid, not a gas. She also had both windows down. He must have pooped because even my worst farts don’t last through an entire stop light with both windows down on a windy day.*

I rest my case.

When I got home I thought about my day as I got out my pressure cooker. I threw in the meat chunk along with my spices from Penzey’s. I talked with Elissa a bit more about her crazy day with the law enforcement incident and told her about the moon and the poopy pants man. A little bit ago we enjoyed our meal, which was way better than the stuff I ate at Oliver’s Market. After I’m done posting this, I will go to the freezer and eat a well-deserved all-natural Dryers coconut frozen juice bar with real coconut flakes. And I shall sit and wait to see what else will happen.

I think I’ve still got ‘it.’

*I am certain my wife would be in total agreement with this factual statement.