H.E. and I both have a sibling who was born on this day, the first of April. If that doesn’t make us kindred spirits, then I guess our lack of a third nipple will just have to do.

I’ll tell you a secret: I’ve never played an April Fool’s Day joke on anyone, at least not that I can recall. I’m not much of a prankster—I guess because I don’t think I’d like anyone to pull a prank on me—so for me, a holiday devoted to pranks is not much of a holiday at all. I’d fret too much about the consequences of my pranks, and I’d always fear a possible retaliation. In short, I’m a coward. So I don’t go out of my way to upset people. Short cuts, maybe—no. No. I try not to do anything to upset people at all.

Besides, I’m a lousy liar. I’d lose at Bullshit and Poker.

But I put up a piece of creative writing about shaving my head once, and a few people thought I was serious. They cheered me on, barely hid their shock, made suggestions about what to do with my cut hair, and tried to reassure me that it would all be OK and that my hair would grow back. Some people even e-mailed to approach me about buying my hair.

Right away I felt awful, afraid that people would think I misled them somehow, and I set the record straight in the comments area.

Yet, four or five years later, I look at that and think, “Damn. That would have made a very fine April Fool’s Day joke indeed.”

Happy Birthday to my sister B. To everyone else, I still have my hair.

No foolin’.

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