I am about to stop you from making the grievous error I made, so pay close attention to what you are about to read.
It all began the night my kids decided they would prank me by putting a very loud alarm clock underneath my bed and setting it for 4:00am, delivering a double prank blow by simultaneously (1) scaring the crap out of me and (2) causing me to crawl on the floor as I attempted to squeeze myself beneath our bedframe to shut it off. In that moment, as I stretched my arm trying to reach the ringing alarm clock with my ass-end in the air I knew it was on like Donkey Kong. The prank war had begun and they were going down.
The next day after I dropped them off at school, I marched my tired ass over to Walmart and bought a bag of Oreos and a tube of toothpaste.
Then I came home and removed the filling from an entire row of the Oreos and replaced it with minty freshness. I celebrated my incredible prank prowess by eating all of the fillings I removed from the cookies because I AM THE GODDESS OF PRANKS AND GODDESSES OF PRANKS DESERVE OREO FILLING.
That night we ate dinner, chatting and laughing, even joking about how funny their practical joke was.
I may have laughed a little too hard.
Finally the time came. My youngest son went to the pantry and got himself a cookie. He took a bite and chewed. I focused on him with a laser-like intensity.
Another bite, and still nothing.
He ate the entire cookie and didn’t so much as flinch.
But then a moment later icy cold dread filled my veins as he said to me “My mouth tastes funny.”
What child eats an entire cookie filled with toothpaste and doesn’t taste it?
That would be mine.
Which is when I began to panic because OH MY GAWD, my child just ate toothpaste and they tell you not to swallow it when you’re brushing your teeth. What the hell have I done?
So I googled it and you know what? Eating toothpaste is BAD. Like mother f*cking get your ass to the hospital bad.
This is the exact reason my husband doesn’t like answering my phone calls when he’s at work.
Thankfully, my son didn’t ingest enough toothpaste to harm him or even make him sick although I did make him sleep with me that night, just in case. And before you hop on the "you are an idiot" bandwagon: (1) Yes I am and (2) there isn't anything you can say to me that I haven't said to myself 100 times over.
The lesson is: If you ever get sucked into a prank war with your kids, fill your cookies with cream cheese and not toothpaste.
Toothpaste = bad.
Cream cheese = good fun.
p.s. The 'what ifs' of this pranks scared the crap out of me so much I have since retired from prank wars and refuse to retaliate. Even when my kids hid a walkie talkie in the bathroom and proceeded to shout into it as I attempted to relax in a hot bubble bath. Or when they taped plastic wrap to my bedroom door. Or put lemon juice on my toothbrush.
Basically I live in a house that's a time bomb of pranks waiting to explode in my face at any given moment. I've developed a tic.
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