Messing with Sasquatch

I've been in a rather jokester mood as of late. Perhaps it was my coworkers joke last weekend of texting me while I was at Lollapalooza on Friday afternoon and telling me that we did, in fact, have a hearing that Monday morning on a case I'd thought we'd resolved. Turns out, she was pulling my chain and laughing hysterically to boot as I began frantically sending text messages about hiring a court reporter for Monday and mentally writing an opening statement in front of the Budweiser stage. JUST KIDDING. Not cool at all. Since that moment, I've felt a desire to give it back. You know, that feeling of GOT YOU? Yeah. I wanted to serve it up.

I got my opportunity the other day and it was delicious.

I'd been wondering why P.I.C. had been teasing me so fervently lately. We've always had that relationship where we tease each other. It's the way I was raised (hi Mom!) and the way everyone in my family relates to one another, and it is the same for P.I.C. Teasing = I love you. That's just the way it is. Some days it seems a bit much from him though. The other day, he brought out the whiny little girl in me and I asked him, "Why do you tease me so much?" Silly me. That's just the way it is.

So when the opportunity to "punk" someone (thank you, MTV) came around, P.I.C. became my intended target. A simple text from a girlfriend asking if I could babysit on Saturday night turned into..."What if I told P.I.C. that I volunteered HIM to babysit for Saturday night since I can't do it?"

A little background information: P.I.C. has never been around babies, for the most part. Like most guys, he didn't babysit his way through high school as his female counterparts might have done, and he just didn't ask to "hold the baby," something the females in my family loved to do. He's often told me that he'd prefer to just have a baby come out at about two years old, when "they don't look like an alien and can talk and all that cool stuff," and I actually had to explain to him WHY you don't give infants peanut butter. (No child of his will develop a peanut allergy, because he fully intends to build up peanut immunity from birth.) So I knew deep down that telling him he would have to babysit by himself would probably induce hysteria.

Let's do this.

I decided, "Why not, let's see who can't make over medium eggs now, Mr. Funny Man." Here is how the text messages ensued:

F.A."I volunteered you to babysit."
P.I.C. "Who?"
F.A. "It's for our friend's friend. She's 1, your nephew's age. Thought you'd be able to handle it. Saturday night. You can park in the condo parking garage."
P.I.C. "I'm going to assume you're joking."

At this point, I decided the screws needed to be put to him. I told my friend, "Hey, guess what I'm doing?" She joined in the fun. She texted him:

"I really appreciate you babysitting for me Sat nite. You're doing me a HUGE favor and it means a lot to me."

With additional foundation laid, I continued the joke via text message.

F.A. "No, I really thought you'd appreciate the money. You can meet your friend after for drinks."
P.I.C. "Are you serious? I'm going to to be alone with a one year-old?"

At this moment I knew I had him. That text message assured me that he was buying it. Additionally, I was laughing hysterically.

F.A. "Think of it as practice. I'm sure the money'll be good. And the kid will probably be in bed by 8 so you can just watch TV."
P.I.C. "Tell me you guys are f**king with me right now."
P.I.C. "Do I have to feed them? Change a diaper? I've never watched a five year-old let alone a baby."

At this point, I can feel the panic coming from his text messages. I let him know I was joking to this response:

P.I.C. "I hate you both right now."

Perhaps I shouldn't wonder why he teases me incessantly. For the record, this was totally worth the wrath I endured from him. Totally.