Tell a joke - go to jail...

Since I'm on the subject of practical jokes today, I'll tell you about another "joke" that my son Christopher pulled on me.

He was about seven years old and had caught a cold. Since he had been born with heart problems, I got him to a doctor pretty darn quick. We had never met that particular doctor before and so he was totally unaware of my son's dry sense of humor.

I was also totally unprepared for what was to happen that day.

As the doctor was examining Chris, he noticed a pretty large bruise on my son's shoulder. Chris had been running through the house a few days earlier and had run smack dab right into a bookcase - thus the "war wound". The doctor, trying to strike up a conversation with my son casually asked him about the bruise.

Without any hesitation whatsoever, Chris immediately responded with:

"My daddy hit me with a baseball bat."

Chris didn't bat an eye, he didn't smile, he didn't snicker - nothing. He just starred up innocently into the face of the doctor who had a look of shock on his face.

The silence in the room became overwhelming, I had been caught totally off guard and I could actually hear my heart beating in my ears.

The doctor looked over at me with a look of disgust on his face.

I pretty much figured there was nothing I could say that would make any difference at that moment - I felt defenseless.

Suddenly though, my son started laughing uncontrollably. The doctor looked back at Chris and my son was pointing at him as he continued to laugh.

"Chris, you mean you're dad didn't hit you?"

"Of course not 'doc' - my dad doesn't hit me or my sister!" he replied as he continued to laugh.

I was feeling quite light-headed by then.

The doctor then started to laugh and then commented on my son's dry sense of humor and ability to carry off the joke. I told him that it was things like that that was going to turn my hair gray prematurely.

I could see that the doctor had taken a quick liking to my son. Chris then went on to show him how he could stick magnets on his chest and they would stay. For you see, my son had had open-heart surgery at the age of 4 months, the surgeons had used metal wire to put his rib cage back together, therefore a strong enough magnet would stick to my son's chest.

The doctor ended up taking Chris around the clinic that day, telling everyone about the joke he played on us and about the magnets.

Chris was always the brightest bulb in the room wherever he was. Unfortunately his bulb grew dark at the age of eleven and he went home to heaven in the early 90's.

I still miss him immensely.