Something strange happened yesterday. Or rather, something didn’t happen. April 1st came and went without a single prank. Not one. No fake lottery wins. No switched-out sugar and salt. No “I’m moving to Mars” announcements. Not even a harmless “Guess what? I’m quitting my job to become a professional llama trainer” text. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. 

For shame. 

Growing up, April Fools’ Day was an event. My mom loved a good prank. She planned them like military operations—strategic, precise, and absolutely foolproof (pun intended). You had to stay on high alert. Anything could happen. You’d sit on a whoopee cushion before breakfast, get tricked into believing school was canceled, or—my personal favorite—be told we won a vacation to Disney, only to find out the “trip” was a walk around the neighborhood with Mickey Mouse ears. 

But yesterday? Silence. Not even a whisper of mischief. I scrolled through the internet expecting at least one ridiculous corporate prank—some fast food chain claiming they’d invented hot dog-flavored ice cream or a tech company announcing a new feature that translates dog barks into Shakespearean English. Instead? Just… business as usual. 

Have we forgotten how to joke around? Are we all so exhausted that we can’t muster the energy for a good-natured bamboozle? Or worse—has the world become so serious, so brittle, that even a playful trick is seen as too risky? 

If so, I refuse to accept it. A world without pranks is a world without joy. Without the momentary thrill of uncertainty. Without that brief but wonderful “Wait… is this real?” second before the reveal. And honestly, without that, what are we even doing? 

So next year, consider this a warning: I will be pranking. I will be scheming. And I expect the same from the rest of you. April Fools’ Day is not dead. It’s just waiting for the right trickster to revive it. Who’s in?