Tricks I Play on The Husband

I have a history of playing jokes on my husband, like the time I had the dentist's office call and tell him that there was a mistake and he really did have a cavity. Or the time that I let him believe he was accurate in thinking the famous actor's name was pronounced Samu L Jackson. Or the time that I told him I couldn't go with his family to North Carolina for New Year's, then hitched a ride up there with his aunt and called him and told him my plans had changed and asked if he could drive back to Georgia and pick me up. Now anyone that knows him can attest to the fact that he deserves every ounce of it. Most of the time my tricks are in retribution to something he's done in the first place.

So our story begins. The Husband's pregnant co-worker, Leslie, asked me to bake her a cake for a reveal party. She wanted the doctor to call me with the gender and wanted me to bake a cake with either blue or pink on the inside so that when she and her husband cut into it at the party everyone would learn what they were having at the same time. Easy enough. Also, she was clear that she didn't want my husband to know beforehand. That's when things get tricky. 

The doctor's office called and told me Leslie was having a boy. Oh boy! She wanted a chocolate cake with colored icing on the inside. The Husband kept creeping trying to find out what color my icing was. I shooed him out of the kitchen and pantry multiple times, only for him to return with some lame excuse like "I need a drink" or "could I have something to eat?" or "you're not the boss of this kitchen, you know." It drove him crazy to know I knew the sex and he didn't. So I devised a little plan. To fully appreciate this trick you should know that Leslie's husband is white, and that all the doctor's office told me was that it was a boy.  (Disclaimer: This is not racially motivated. I love black people. See this post for more).

Me: Have you met Leslie's husband before?

Husband: Yeah, once.

Me (casually): So he's black? 

Husband: No, he's white. 

Me (somber): Oh. 

Husband: What?

Me: I'm sure it's nothing.

Husband: What?

Me (very seriously) They are having a black baby. 

Husband: What?!

Me: I wonder if he knows. 

Husband: What? How do you know?

Me: The doctor said it. Oh no.  (This is preposterous but he was buying it)

Husband: What? What did the doctor say?

Me: The nurse that called told me the gender and then said based on the facial structure and the bone composition it was most likely an African American baby. 

Husband: She really told you that?

Me: Yes. Someone's going to be in trouble. 

Husband: Well, maybe they did in vetro or something. 

Me: Or something. Do you think I should tell her?

Husband: What did they say again?

Me: Based on the facial structure and the bone composition it was most likely an African American baby (II had to turn away now and stir my batter because I was in danger of laughing) Do you think I should tell her?

Husband: Tell her what?

Me: That she's having a black baby. 

Husband: How can you tell her that?

Me: I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't. Would you want to know? Maybe I should just wait until it's born and then they'll find out that way. 

Husband: I can't believe they told you that. I think it's a HIPPA violation. 

Me: Well, they asked the office to call me. 

Husband: Yes, but only to tell the sex, not to tell you the race. That's none of your business. 

Me: But I know so it is my business, and now it's your business too.  I'll have to think about this. I think she deserves to know. Her husband deserves to know. 

Meanwhile I texted Leslie to tell her that my husband thought she was having a black baby. She thought it was hilarious. The next day was the day of the party. I finished up the cake and we left to go to her parents' house.

Husband: What did you decide?

Me: About what?

Husband: Telling her. 

Me: Well. I made a chocolate cake. 

Husband: So?

Me: Well, she's expecting a white cake (that wasn't true) so when she cuts into it maybe she'll figure it out and I won't have to say anything. 

Husband: You made a chocolate cake?! 

Me: Yeah.

Husband: I can't believe you did that. That's insensitive. 

Me: What? I thought it was subtle and appropriate. 

Husband: What if she doesn't get it and asks why her cake is chocolate?

Me: I don't think she'll do that. She's too polite. 

Husband: You aren't charging her for this cake are you?

Me: Why not?

Husband: I thought the cake was supposed to be pink or blue on the inside.

Me: That's even more reason for her to take the hint. 

Husband: So everyone there is going to be expecting to find out what the baby is and it's going to be brown?

Me: Well, the icing has a color inside. 

Husband: Is it brown too?

Me: No, it's pink or blue. 

Husband: I think maybe you should talk to her. 

Me: I don't know. 

Husband: They could've made a mistake. She needs to know that. She needs to know her doctor's office is giving out her personal information too. 

Me: I don't know. There's a lot to think about. 

We got to the party, they cut the cake, and everyone cheered that it was a boy. No one asked why the cake was chocolate because that's ridiculous. We congratulated them and got ready to leave. In the car:

Husband: Well?

Me: Well what?

Husband: Did you say anything to her?

Me: No, I didn't. 

Husband: What are you going to do?

Me: You ACTUALLY think her doctor's office called me and told me she's having a BLACK baby?

This is followed by lots and lots of laughter on my end and glares from the Husband. 

Me: (Hysterical laughter)

Husband: Yes, I did. 

Me: We just had a baby. They didn't mention anything about the color of our baby from our ultrasounds. How do you think they can do that?

Husband: Excuse me for believing my wife and not expecting that she would lie to me. 

Me: But really....(more laughter)

Husband: This is not funny. I can't believe you did that. It's not funny at all. 

Me: Yes it is. It's hilarious!

And it's STILL hilarious. I get a kick out of it every time I think about it. Tell me you didn't laugh or at least smile?  He went to work on Monday angry with Leslie too, even though she had nothing to do with it. So now I have to lay low for a little while so he doesn't suspect anything. Until the next trick.....