Fr. McGarry is one of those "old guys" who says things under his breath and in a sort of mumbling way that, when you hear them, make you spit out your milk and start rolling on the floor laughing. Unfortunately I can't really give examples, because about 80% of the humour is of the "you had to be there" variety, but I'll hope you trust me on this one. Naturally, then, while all of the priests we are living with are exceptional in there own right (Fr. Fran is an encyclopedia, Fr. Cav is jolly as can be, and Fr. Dave has an ease and sensitivity about him that makes you instantly comfortable and at home), Fr. McGarry naturally became the one that we laugh with the most.
And so, naturally, the one we decided to play a prank on (don't worry, playing pranks on priests is kosher :) when you live with them).
The idea started developing the days before, as we listened to Fr. McGarry gripe and groan about this massive jar of three-berry jam that had been opened, and consequently needed to be finished before a new jar of jam - of a different flavoured jam - could be opened. He hated three-berry, but loved all other sorts. So he would eat as much as he could at any given sitting, and would do his best to get others to join him in his efforts (with little success I think).
Finally, a couple of days ago, the jar was almost empty. It would be done within the day or two. It was at lunch when we started asking what would happen if one of us finished it and decided we liked three-berry jam and opened another jar of it. Immediately, simply, and straightforwardly he said "I'd kill you." Never mind consequences.
The idea thus presented itself in our minds - what if Fr. McGarry did think another jar of three berry jam had been opened? What would he do?
That night, the three-berry jam was finished. Triumphantly, gloriously, and very vocally Fr. McGarry opened a new jar of STRAWBERRY jam. Giant, like the last one, but strawberry this time. He happily ate some toast and jam and went to bed. We - Colleen, Tim and myself, the JVs of the house - started brainstorming. The jars were the same size, same brand, everything, and eventually we thought we'd see if we couldn't switch labels. We tried pulling the three-berry jam label off and --- voila! It worked! Thank God for the humidity of the islands! We peeled it off, slowly and carefully, and equally slowly and carefully put it on the strawberry jam jar - and it was beautiful. Looked exactly like a jar of three-berry jam. Perfect! We put it back in the fridge, giggled, and went to bed.
The next day at lunch Fr. McGarry decided to have jam. We were all sitting around the circular dining room table, in great anticipation. Fr. Dave had also been alerted to the game, and played his party very well. Fr. McGarry went to the fridge, got the jam, a plate, his toast, sat down. Fr. Cav also got his pancakes from the microwave and BBQ sauce to smother them in, and sat down. Fr. McGarry looked at the jam and said "Does anyone realize what a terrible mistake has been made? Apparently I opened another bottle of three-berry jam... This is terrible..." In resignation to another long effort he opened the jar, stuck in his knife, and got himself some jam.
A lot of jam.
It was at this point that Fr. Cav realized he had BBQ sauce, not syrup, and got up again to switch them and put his coffee in the microwave.
It got better. Fr. McGarry started talking about how it wasn't so bad, it just wasn't great. Fr. Dave then said, quietly, "It's all in the mind father, it's all in the mind." Fr. Cav then got up because he realized he had put his coffee in for not 1 minute and 17 seconds but 1 hr. and 17 minutes. Fr. McGarry then, holding the jar up to the light, said he was trying to get the strawberry bits in the jam because they tasted the best. We all were cracking up (even Fr. Dave was enjoying himself), Fr. Cav told us to stop laughing at him (he didn't know about the jam) and Fr. McGarry was in a general state of distress and disappointment.
It was then that Colleen spun the GIANT lazy Susan around and quietly scratched off the "Three-Berry" part of the label, leaving the "Strawberry" underneath, and inconspicuously spun it again so the jam stopped in front of Fr. McGarry. Eventually, he noticed it, and rather sheepishly admitted to his craziness, thinking that he had opened a three-berry jam. He hadn't, he had opened strawberry, and so he made his confessions to all for his mistake.
We couldn't stop smiling!
After this we explained what we did. Fr. Dave was smiling, Fr. Cav was laughing, Fr. Fran was in the Marshalls, and Fr. McGarry wasn't sure what to do anymore - looking more than a little lost. Lost, but happy. After all, he had his strawberry jam.
A happy household!
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