When I was in my first year of school our teacher (we had a single teacher for every class in elementary school) tried to explain to us the concept of April Fools’:
“You are supposed to do silly things on April Fools. Make some pranks, be goofy, be weird. Maybe next time all the boys will come in wearing girls' clothes and all the girls will be wearing boys’ clothes? Things like that, you know.”
And so I came home that day and told my parents that I need to dress like a girl to school tomorrow. My parents asked no further questions at all. My mother was still bigger than me back then, so she had to look fairly hard, but eventually, she fetched a cute tiny little white dress that she used to wear as a teenager:
“Here, try this” — she said.
And so I did. She looked at me critically for a bit:
“A-huh, I know what’s missing!”
She got her summer straw hat and put it on my head:
“Here it is! Now it’s perfect!”
The next morning instead of my usual tedious routine of buttoning up and getting my legs through the correct holes of my pants, I just put my entire self through this tiny little white dress and was ready in no time. The day was rather warm for an early April, but trees were still bare. I took my usual route, stepping on an ever-cracked asphalt, going past concrete parapets with prickly sides, past nine-story building with beige tiling, past thirteen-story buildings with blue tiling and poorly glazed balconies. Babushkas put out their little shops: bubble gum for nickel, candy for a dime. I node to sleepy women in grey coats, I node to gloomy men in beef jackets. Some nod back, most don’t notice neither me nor my straw hat.
I arrived a bit early, probably thanks to all the time I saved on buttoning up my shirt. I was the first one there, but people started to arrive shortly.
“Hey Nick, where’s your dress?” — I asked my friend. Nick blanked at me.
More people arrived, more people blanked. Not only nobody came to school cross-dressed, nobody could remember anything about this conversation at all.
“Today my name is not Anton, today my name is Antonina” — I explained to the very confused class.
Confused as they were, nobody made fun of me. I think the whole shtick was beyond fun. I mean, was there anything to add? I took off my straw hat during the classes and put it back on during the breaks. I helped other kids with math and I suffered miserably with grammar. I hanged with other boys as usual and we talked about Pokémons and stuff. I got home after classes to change to play soccer with Nick and others. But before I did, I glanced in the mirror for a bit.
“So who’s the fool now?” — I thought and took it off.