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When I was in second or third grade and living with my family in Japan, one morning as I lay sleeping soundly in my bed, my father placed his hand upon my shoulder and softly said, “Buddy, you and Bruce don’t have to get up right away this morning. Mom and I just heard on the radio that your school caught fire last night and burned down to the ground.”
I instantly sat upright, fully awake. “Oh, no!” I said.
“April Fool!” said Dad. And all was well again.
I wonder whether, perhaps, when Donald J. Trump’s kids were small, he sometimes told trivial untruths to entertain them. I wonder if Mr. Trump, like my own beloved dad, played this little game on just one day of the year.
♦
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