Smells like April Fool's Day

I would say that the April Fool’s prank I pulled on the Husband this year was an overall success, in that the Husband was subjected to a mild amount of discomfort and brief confusion while I could be found giggling in a darkened hallway. It does not, however, mean that there were exclamations of surprise or frustration or accusation. It has taken me a few years to accept this, but the Husband is not prone to voicing matters in boisterous bursts of emotion. He is more “calculating” (his word for it).

Indeed he is. Allow me to tell you the story now.

I figured I should leave his toothbrush alone this year and turn instead to his hygiene of the body. I took his ever faithful bar of soap out of the shower, found my ever faithful bottle of clear nail polish, and painted that Irish Spring with a few coats of ever loving April Fools.

After I was done I stood back and examined my handiwork and was quite impressed. There was no way that sucker was going to lather, although now it smelled more like nail polish than soap but that was an inconsequential detail for sure. Visions of the Husband trying his darndest to get that soap to clean himself made me break out in fits of premature laughter. This was going to work!

So later that night, when the Husband was properly sweated out from an intense game of basketball, I knew he would head off to the shower. I got my camera ready. I sat in the hallway, with only the light of the bathroom gleaming under the doorway. It brought back memories of the salted toothbrush prank of yesteryear and I wished for a louder exclamation this time around. Oh that would be joyous indeed. I heard the shower water turn on and I hit record on the camera just in case I was able to capture sudden shouts of frustration that I would be able to playback and listen to over and over and over to my heart’s content!

I listened for signs of a struggle, huge sighs, the soap being thrown against the wall . . . anything. Any sign that something was amiss in his regular showering routine. But there was nothing. Just the sound of water. This continued on for minutes. I thought maybe he hadn’t gotten around to the soap yet and was taking an extra long time with the shampoo. Or maybe somehow against all odds he had managed to create soap lather! Or maybe he wasn't even in the shower at all and was actually standing right behind me! (I checked. He wasn't). And just when I was entering the pit of despair I heard the shower curtain open and a drawer pulled open. I peeked under the door to see the Husband’s wet feet standing on the bathmat. Then I heard him unwrapping another bar of soap. I almost lost it! I had to flee from the hallway lest he hear me giggling. By the time I returned he had jumped back in the shower, cold and shivering no doubt! I think at this point my prank deserves at least three exclamation points!!! Thank you.

After fully relishing the moment, I decided I should probably leave, gain my composure, and wait for the aftermath. So I went to the living room and appeared to be doing something productive on the computer. Within a few minutes the Husband returned freshly showered, with just the slight smell of nail polish wafting behind him. He said nothing to me. Just went to the fridge for a snack.

That’s when I noticed an Irish Spring soap box tucked into the pocket of his sweatpants. What the devil is this crazy person doing I thought? After a few minutes of silence he went into the bathroom closest to the living room and locked the door. He came back out after a few seconds and said he was going to bed. I quickly ran into the bathroom to see what he was up to and my instinct told me "the trash can!" There hidden deep under a mound of tissues I found the box of soap. I opened it up and found a very sad looking bar that appeared to be peeling and mutilated. I screamed and told the Husband he was a wacka doo. Why did he hide the soap?! Why did he not confront me?! WHY OH WHY?!

This was the response I received: He said for a split second he thought maybe the soap had dried out, but then he realized that was silly because he had used the soap the previous day and soap doesn’t dry out in a day? Does it ever dry out was my question. Then he said he knew I had done something to the soap because it wouldn’t lather and it smelled like nail polish remover. He attempted to rub it until it lathered, with no success. Then he tried peeling off the outside layer. Then he finally decided he didn’t want to rub that soap on his body, not knowing what I had done to it so he got out of the shower and got a new bar. And all of this he did without uttering a single word. Not even a grunt! Not even a whistle! He also said he didn’t want to give my prank notice so he packaged up the old soap and threw it away just to toy with me. Calculating indeed.

But I am satisfied with the outcome despite his attempts to completely pretend like it didn’t happen. I will forever remember those cold wet feet of the Husband’s standing on that fuzzy bathmat, knowing full well that in his mind he is yelling “Wife! Is there no end to your madness?!” And that is enough for me. Yes, plenty enough.