I was driving home from the supermarket when I dreamed up an amusing April Fool’s joke to play on my husband. The day before he had sweat through an entire Saturday planting annuals along the path leading to our front door. And April Fool’s Day was right around the corner.

The day finally arrived. I strolled along our walkway after work and entered the house. My husband was sitting on the sofa sipping a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. I cleared my throat and said, “What happened to all your beautiful flowers?”

“What do you mean, what happened to my flowers?”

I put on a super-duper gloomy face and replied, “Well, they’re all sort of drooping and dying.”

He threw the paper aside and hurried out the door with me trailing close behind.

When we were both standing looking down at his still-blooming flowers, a real explosion of color, I clapped my hands and shouted, “April Fool’s.”

My husband turned and stared at me. He didn’t think it was funny.

(I still say it was a great April Fool’s joke.)