My mother has a fine sense of humour.
Once while (expecting me to visit her) in the hospital, she exchanged her glasses for a pair of Groucho Glasses and fell asleep, figuring I'd see her and get a kick out of it.
She was awakened by a doctor trailing five medical students, who did a check-over and asked her questions about her health, checked her reflexes, etc.
It wasn't until they left she realized she still had the glasses on.
Every few Christmases a pair of Groucho glasses will make the rounds. We all giggle and try them on, but for me it will never be as funny as the day Mom became a Marxist in front of her doctor.
Yesterday at the Spring Fair, both the kids played the fish-pond and brought some home. What better time to chronicle the next generation of social deviants?