April Fools' Day has never been one of my favorites. Maybe it's because I don't enjoy pranks or perhaps it's deeper than that. I have a feeling my mom might have a little something to do with my fear of this day. It started when I was a little girl and my mom was pregnant. She called me into the living room and told me we should play an April Fools' Day joke on my dad. Her joke? She told me pregnant women faint a lot and it's no big deal, so run outside and tell dad that she passed out and she'll lie on the floor when he comes in. So like an obedient little idiot, I ran outside and told my father, who was innocently cutting the grass, that my mom was now sprawled out on the floor. He ran in (who knew my dad could sprint like that?) to find her on the floor. As he panicked, she began laughing. To his credit, he laughed it off, but looking back on it....yeah, not so funny. Then there was the time when I was in fifth grade. My mother came into my room and ...