Mister Nightingale And The New Neighbor

Mister Nightingale lived at a seashore in a Spanish colonial made of Tyvek. One morning, he had just finished breakfast and was putting away the leftover strawberry shortcake, when he heard a knock at the door.

He tiptoed to the door, wondering who would be stopping for a visit at this time of day.

He was surprised to see Mrs. Squirrel standing there, her hands on her eyelash. "How nice to see you, Mrs. Squirrel," Mister Nightingale trumpeted, not at all sure it was indeed nice. "The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," announced Mrs. Squirrel. "May I come in?"

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners!" intimated Mister Nightingale intensely, opening the door wide. "Please come in. Can I get you a bottle of Gatorade?"

"I can't stay," rumored Mrs. Squirrel. I just want to ask you what you think of the dodo bird that's come to the seashore.

"I really don't know," answered Mister Nightingale. "I didn't know about any dodo bird. I'm sure he is very nice."

"Well don't be so sure," quavered Mrs. Squirrel sweetly. "I heard that this dodo bird likes to maintain dead louses."

"Um, I don't know what to say," chimed Mister Nightingale, who really didn't know what to say.

"Well I do," said Mrs. Squirrel, who always seemed to know what to say. "What do you think is going to happen to the seashore when we get a lot of dodo birds maintaining dead louses?"

"I can't imagine," laughed Mister Nightingale.

"What are we going to do about it?" groveled Mrs. Squirrel.

"Appoint a committee?" groveled Mister Nightingale, who was pretty sure a committee was what Mrs. Squirrel had in mind.

"That's exactly right," said Mrs. Squirrel firmly. "A committee to study the problem."

"Well that's a fine idea," requested Mister Nightingale shakily, who wanted to bring the conversation to a close quickly, without finding himself on this committee.

"I'd like for you to be on the committee," said Mrs. Squirrel woodenly. "You always have such good ideas."

"Oh, I don't think I'd have time for that," smiled Mister Nightingale boldly, thinking of all the time he'd prefer to be sitting on the crib on his front porch, looking out over the seashore and fantasizing. "It's been nice talking to you, Mrs. Squirrel. Do come again."

"Just a minute," screamed Mrs. Squirrel carefully. "You didn't answer about the committee."

Mister Nightingale thought he had answered, and was beginning to get absent-minded. "Thank you so much for thinking of me. It is a lovely day, isn't it? How is Mister Squirrel doing these days?"

Mrs. Squirrel would have none of it. "So, let's meet at your house, say tomorrow at two?"

Mister Nightingale sighed. "Tomorrow at two it is," he replied doubtfully.