I'm on break listening to the radio, and the radio host is on some massive rant about illegal immigrants in the US.
"Anyone who's here in the US illegally should be sent back to the country they came from! Mexicans should be sent back to Mexico! Peurto Ricans should be sent back to Peurto Rico...."
Last year, I took a trip to Florida and it was the first time I had ever taken a vacation and the first time I ever set foot outside of Illinois. That trip had many many wonderful experiences. I got my picture taken with a mermaid at Weeki Wachee. I got to pet the penguins at Sea World. I took my first helicopter ride. I went to my first Ren faire....
...but the real highlight of the trip happened shortly after I touched down. I got a call on my cell phone from my overprotective fussbudget worrywort of a mother. Not feeling like dealing with one of her interogations at that moment, I conned her into thinking I had been detained by Homeland Security and was still in Chicago. Mom totally flipped her shit, and that was nothing compared to when she found out she'd been had.
(The after action report, I note with pride, was epic. Mom was torqued for two whole days, to the point where no one could even mention my name without her starting to burn. My dad told my mom, "You know he's a prankster. That's what you get for bugging him." She called up my sister to tell her what happened and get some sympathy. My sister started laughing at her and said she got what she deserved. My brother in law did the same thing. I didn't hear from my mom again unti I visited them later that week on the trip.)
So mom calls from Florida recently and we are discussing my impending trip there in 2013. I mentioned to dad I wanted to go to Kennedy Space Center this time, and he totally geeked out (I wanted to be an astronaut when I was a kid. He has never said so, but from his reaction, I suspect he did, too). Within a couple of minutes, we made plans to spend two whole days there, him talking like a little kid on Christmas Day. Mom started trying to overtake my schedule at this point, telling me what else I should be doing.
I told her, Careful, mom. Remember what happened the last time you started bossing me around.
She was quiet, then I heard a chuckle and her say, "You know, that really was good what you did."
What did you say?
"You really got me good there." Turns out she's been telling people in Florida all about the escapade.
The highest compliment a prankster can receive is praise from his mark.
Although, I still think there's something Twilght Zone-ish going on here.