Pranks

     Val Patterson, a Utah resident, died last week.  He wrote his own obituary, and in it, confessed to the many pranks he pulled off during his life.  His biggest scam was the PhD. that opened the door to his career as an engineer.  Through a paperwork error, his student loan payment was mistaken for payment of the PhD. processing fees.  Once he got the certificate, he decided to leave school and go to work.  He also stole a safe from a drive in, clogged up a geyser, and raised such a ruckus that he was on the banned for life list at Sea World and Disneyland.  Mr. Patterson died from throat cancer caused by his cigarette habit.  He expressed regret that this habit robbed him of more time with his family.  http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/sideshow/utah-man-confessional-obituary-owns-life-pranks-180934687.html
     I decided I'm not going to wait until I'm dead to confess my most secret sins.  I'll make a clean breast of it right now.
     When I was in elementary school, I made a crank phone call from the pay phone in the hallway at Hainesport School.
     I borrowed a nickel from Ellen Homan when we went to Harmony Heart Camp, and I never paid her back.
     I robbed a couple of quarters from the change jar in the kitchen cabinet when I was a kid.
     During college, I cleaned for one of the residence counselors.  I accidentally tossed a cleaning rag down the toilet while dumping a bucket of scrub water.  I decided to stay mum about the incident.  The university maintenance people eventually had to deal with the backed up toilet.  Since the counselor's husband had a colon problem, no one suspected I was the cause. 
     When I was out of a job for a while, back in the mid 70's, a friend of the family hired me to help clean up a rental between tenants.  Every day for three weeks, we stopped at a deli to pick up lunch before going to the apartment.  My friend, an older woman, always gave me just enough money to get the least expensive hoagie which we split for our noon time meal.  After about two weeks, I was sick of the same old thing.  I ordered a roast beef hoagie and paid the difference.  My boss carried on long afterward about how tasty our "accidental" sandwich had been.  For me, each re-telling was delicious.
     I don't know if I will write my obit.  That's a tough assignment.  Maybe I'll leave it to the undertaker who will stick with just the facts.  She was born.  She died.  She worked. She retired.  She left some people behind.  The ones I leave behind can add the juicy details.  I hope I'll leave them with delicious memories.