April Fool's Day pranks were always a hoot at our house, as long as it was someone else being pranked.

Dad was a favourite target, as dads always are, and poor Papa Foster soon grew to regret the day he raised a house full of kids that were far, far more inventive than to simply switch the contents of the sugar bowl for salt before he got up to make coffee on April 1. Pfft, that stuff was for amateurs.

Chinese food was a rare luxury at our house, so on those special occasions when we'd order in, Dad would dive in with great gusto, making a big production of the feast.

He'd grab the bottle of soya sauce from the refrigerator door like King Arthur drawing the sword out of the stone, and fling the bottle with great élan at his chicken-fried rice.

I'm sure there's no need to describe here what happens when you remove the little plastic squirty thingy that restricts the flow of soya sauce when someone whips the bottle up and down as if stabbing a rabid wildebeest.

Luckily, most of us little Fosters could run pretty fast, and, just like trying to outrun an angry bear, you didn't have to run faster than dad, you only had to run faster than just one of the other kids he was also chasing.

Flaming bags of doggie doo on doorsteps and toilet-papering trees were for rookies in the alleged minds of our little gang of heathens. We were more into explosives and pyrotechnics as our April Fool's ammunition.

But being young and unaware of the finer points of 1960s housing architecture, when we planted the bottle rockets in front of the living room picture window, then aimed them straight up and lit the fuses, it had escaped our attention that roofs on houses of that era usually featured large overhangs sticking out the front.

As the flares shot off in rapid succession, brightening the night air like a thousand suns, they instantly slammed into the eaves overhanging the front of the house and exploded into gigantic supernovae directly in front of the window. At least it made work for bored cops and firefighters in Sunny Brae.

Young boys grow up, but sometimes their minds take a bit longer to mature. My first April 1 in the Navy had me hiding in a barracks closet, the door open a mere crack so I could "super soak" passersby. This was probably not a good idea, considering the targets were armed soldiers with the demeanors of pitbulls overdosing on methamphetamine.

Tipped off that the prank's victims were coming to douse me with large buckets filled with water, I ran off into the men's room, climbed on the toilet and held my breath. Ah, but luckily vengeance is often blind, blinded by rage that is, though it wasn't so lucky for the prince of a guy in the next stall who got three five-gallon pails of water dumped over him as he sat regally on his porcelain throne.

Nowadays, April Fool's Day pranks have gone high-tech. You know that guy at the office who leaves his computer on overnight? Get to work before he does this morning, take a screen shot of his desktop and then set the shot as the background on his computer screen. Sit back and watch what happens when he gets to the office and tries in vain to click the icons, unaware he's clicking on just a photo.

You know that insufferable guy who's been going on and on about his wonderful new king-sized LCD computer screen, while you're still stuck with a 10x10 model from the last century?

When he goes for coffee, download a wallpaper of a smashed computer screen, available all over the net, and watch the coffee spew from his mouth when he gets back from the lunch room.

Switch someone's Google language-of-use feature to something more imaginative, like, say, Uzbekistan. It's easy, just click "language tools" on the Google home page and have at 'er. You can even set the language to "Elmer Fudd," so Google will ask if they want to "Seawch" or if they are "Feewing Wucky." To change it back, click on "Wanguage Toows."

My poor beleaguered dad is long gone, but I think I've caught on to one of his own April 1 pranks just now, many decades after the fact.

Many years ago, April Fool's pranks ended by noon at our house. As Dad explained it, that's the April Fool's rule -- April Fool's Day actually ends at noon. I've believed that to be gospel for five decades and yet, in researching this article, I can find no mention of that in any of the many authorities on April Fool's Day that I've consulted. Looks like Dad got the last laugh, more than 40 years later.

As Elmer Fudd might say, "He who waffs wast, waffs best."

Happy Apwil Fewls Day and pway safe!