As a third generation prankster and extremely proud of it, I had to include a chapter in the book entitled 'Parties, Stories, Pranks, and Other Shenanigans -- A Lifetime of Them!'

In this particular story, Thom, the equally-proud fourth generation prankster, is featured as the Prankster.

And I the Prankstee.

And The Piece of Resistance in Cali! (and Cabed’s plan!)

                      Before the kids moved to Georgia, I made frequent visits to Cali to spoil those grands as much as possible. 

                      Making a grocery run for them one afternoon in their vehicle, I was able to find rockstar parking right up front.

                      Shopping cart filled to the brim with goodies, I headed out to the car, pointing the key fob in the direction of the car.

                      There was no car there.

                      The one time I remember where the hell I parked the car, and it wasn’t there!

                      Now my mind is playing tricks on me.  Maybe I didn’t park there. 

                      I now start zig zagging the parking lot, sore knee giving me fits, and pushing a cart piled so high, it looked like Marge Simpson’s hair.

                      It was just the store employee shuttling carts and me walking back and forth in the parking lot.  I wasn’t wearing a store vest.

                      No car!  Anywhere!

                  About the time I was going to call Michelle panicked to say their car had been stolen, a little voice in my head said, ‘Look for the red pickup truck!’.

                      I looked straight ahead to see Thom in his red pickup truck laughing so hard and VIDEOING ME, his red face matching the truck!

                      At precisely the same time I spotted this kid of ours, Roy began ringing my phone.

                      I’m sure Thom must have just told him, ‘Uh oh!  She sees me!’.

                      ‘Screw you, too, buddy!’, I grumbled, not answering, knowing they were in cahoots together, and quickening my pace to that pickup truck.

                      I proceeded to punch Thom in the arm as he continued laughing, calling him the same names I called his Dad when I didn’t answer his call.

                      Then I stopped short, stared at him, and began laughing, too.

                      This kid of ours had called Michelle, asking if she needed anything at the grocery store; and she declined saying, ‘Yiya’s shopping’.

                      That’s all he needed to hear.  He and his other set of keys arrived at the store, and moved the car to a bank parking lot adjacent to the store.

                      And waited for the entertainment.

                      He lost the video when upgrading phones, thankfully.

                      Just the storytelling of it thru the years has been more than sufficient.

                      In those early days of living with the kids till our home was built, Caleb came to me with a plan to get Dad back . . . he suggested we both set our alarms for about 3 am . . . for us to then meet and pour a bucket of water on Dad while he was sleeping!

                      I declined, explaining his Mom would be collateral damage, and that beds were off-limits. 

                                 Especially with us still residing under their roof.

                      This prank has yet to be returned . . .