humor column

Here’s why April Fools’ Day is the most stressful 24 hours of the entire year

Sarah Allam | Head Illustrator

If you’ve seen a calendar recently, you’re probably aware of the fact that April Fools’ Day is coming up — and fast. Now, I know what you all expect of me. “Oh, Annabeth is a humor columnist, I bet she’s going to give us a bunch of great pranks to play this year!”

Well, I’m here to tell you that this is not the case.

I have zero pranks. And it isn’t because I haven’t tried to think of any — believe me, I have. The truth of the matter is that, in all my years, I simply have not been able to think of a single adequate prank.

For this reason, all of that April Fools’ Day excitement goes right over my head. Instead, the day just makes me really nervous. Each year, I feel pressured to come up with some elaborate, funny, original prank, and each year, I melt under said pressure into a pool of Shirley Temple and grape soda — my favorite and least favorite carbonated beverages.

You see, the jokes that I do come up with are either unoriginal and funny, or original but flat-out stupid. But, even if I somehow do think one up, I can never pull it off.



For example, one year I did that thing where you put toothpaste in Oreos and offer them to a friend as a regular cookie. Due to my nervous giggling and sloppy spreading of the toothpaste, my friend was suspicious and made me try a bite before she would.

As committed as I was to the trick, I ate one — but, since I spit out much of the chewed up remains of the minty-fresh cookie, she refused to take one after me. Thus, another failure was added to the book.

Other ideas I come up with when trying to be original are things like, “I’m gonna spray my friend with a water gun! Pranked!” or “I’m gonna touch all my friends’ food with my bare hands when they’re not looking. Now their food will have hand on them! Got ‘em!”

So, as you can see, they suck.

But, as I write this, I realize I can’t be the only one who’s bad at April Fools’ shenanigans. So, speaking on behalf of the people I know must exist somewhere in this crazy world: We are tired of being anxious about the first of April! Therefore, we demand change!

April Fools’ Day should be for everyone, not just the elite pranksters. So, as a way to relieve anxiety and help more people contribute to the day, I have a few proposals:

  • Make every day April Fools’ Day: If everyone’s playing pranks all the time, are we really playing pranks all the time, or are we just living? This way, there will be no built-up pressure for one single day when one must unleash all their pranks, and people will be able to play jokes at their leisure. See ya, anxiety!
  • Cancel April Fools’ Day: Think about it for a second: This is a day based on deceiving people. Why do we want this? I thought that in order to be a good person you were supposed to be honest and kind to other people — not put thumbtacks on their chairs when they’re not looking so that they get a tiny hole in their butts!
  • Create a prank-free zone: This one’s probably the “best of both worlds” solution. I suggest that we put up several fenced-in areas in each town in which all the anxious people, like me, can hibernate for the entire day. No pranks will be allowed in said areas. If you do prank someone, you will be punished by either a lifetime of whoopee cushions being placed on your chairs or death! Your choice.

Those are all of my ideas. Literally all of them. There is nothing left in my brain. So, Congress — I know you’re reading this — please vote on my suggestions immediately. It’s those, or we can do the secret fourth option of flying planes that release laughing gas into the air so everyone thinks every prank is funny. I’d be fine with that, too.

Annabeth Grace Mann is a sophomore film major. Her column appears biweekly. She can be reached at agmann@syr.edu.





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