Tuesday, February 5, 2019
I am a long-time practical joker. I do not intentionally play mean jokes on anyone or anything that will cause any kind of pain. All are done in the spirit of fun and to make everyone laugh.
When I was in high school my sister and I were wandering around downtown one Saturday afternoon we came upon a novelty store. Of course we went right in.
Whoopie cushions, stink bombs, cigarette loads, and fake vomit seemed to be the most popular. We browsed around not intending to spend any of our hard earned money on silly stuff.
Unfortunately I could not resist. The cigarette loads were so inexpensive... a little bit of nothing in fact.
Both our parents smoked. We would never have considered putting a load in Mom's cigarette. There are advantages to being Mom. We decided we would try to 'get' Daddy.
Again unfortunately they were out of cigarette loads. They did have cigar loads however. We bought a small package of cigar loads.
The loads look like little bits of broom straws. They are quite small. I still do not understand how they make the small explosions they are meant to make.
We managed to sneak Daddy's cigarettes away from him. He smoked non-filtered cigarettes so we decided the load would have to be placed in the center so it would not explode at his lips.
As we put the load in and pushed it to the middle with a toothpick we again remarked about how small they were. Maybe a couple more loads were needed. So we put two more in.
We snuck the cigarettes back and Daddy did not realize they had been gone.
My sister and I sat on the floor playing a game while waiting for him to light the cigarette. Soon he pulled it out of the package. He put it to his mouth and lit it.
We tried to surreptitiously watch so we would not miss the little crackle like the ones we had seen on television. Then we could all have a good laugh and Daddy would think we were so clever.
Suddenly his cigarette exploded like a small firecracker. Bits of tobacco and cigarette paper flew everywhere. My eyes must have been huge from shock and then fear. I know my sister's were because I could see them.
Daddy was furious. He was demanding to know who did this. My sister and I just sat there like a couple of statues.
We never admitted to trying to blow the nose off the front of his face. After all those years had passed I did not want him to know it was me.