When I was growing up, we had a pool in the backyard. Mom was pretty vigilant about keeping an eye on us, but one day, she had to go inside and I was left out in the pool on my own. Shortly thereafter, I decided to see how long I could float. On my stomach. I was a good floater.
I was still "floating" when Mom came back, and for whatever reason, I decided not to get up. I heard Mom call my name. Did nothing. Called again. Nothing. Started walking toward the pool. Still nothing. Started RUNNING toward the pool.
It was only when I heard her footsteps on the deck, screaming and preparing to jump in, that I sat up and laughed. Needless to say, she. was. HOT.
At least two years later (when I'd completely forgotten about what I'd done) Mom had back surgery. It was a big deal – she wound up having the surgery twice, with two different docs. Shortly after, she decided to put contact paper in all the kitchen cabinets. (Yeah, I know.) Dad was "babysitting" but had to run an errand and left me in charge. I told Mom I was gonna take a shower.
Well, when I got back up and went out to check on her, she didn't answer. So I went running and found her, on the floor, with the stool, the paper and the other implements all carefully arranged around her to *look like* she'd fallen. She was laying there, all splayed out.
As soon as I started screaming and crying, she sat up and said "I TOLD YOU I'D GET YOU BACK!!!"
And she did, man. She did.
The title comes from when I told a friend this story. She said, "I've never known to people in the same family to fake their own death." LOL! Well, that was my family, what can I say?