I have never forgiven my mother for this:
When I was in junior high, we went to church with a man who worked at one of the large event venues in downtown St. Louis. One year, I think in seventh grade, so 1991, my mother woke me up before school…
****wavy going-back-in-time window***
“Hey Sarie! You know Bill and how he works for the stadium? Well, he’s pulled some strings for us to go to the New Kids on the Block concert coming up.”
My heart started pounding.
“He was able to get us some tickets to the concert.”
I lost my breath.
“Also, a signed t-shirt,”
I hope it’s a good one.
“AND some back stage passes so we can meet them!”
Wha… shu… ser… omi… I’ve gone pre-verbal I’m so excited.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
Shut UP! How does it get better than this?
“Happy April Fool’s Day!” What?
No, seriously, what!? You don’t do this kind of thing, mom!! You don’t fib, ever! Seriously!?
***wavy back-to-present-day picture***
So, no, I didn’t go to the concert, and I was massively disappointed. I wasn’t mad at mom, though, or at least not for long. This stands out in my memory, though, because it is the most “tricked” I have ever been.
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