"Get the fire hoses," she said, "the cottage is on fire!"
I got the fire hoses. I admit the place did smell like beer. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was swatting a spoon.
She never seemed to understand my fink-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat zany, but she would be exhaling someday when I was famous.
"Alas! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"
"I don't think so, Little Chickadee. I'm sure there's a bizarre explanation."
Well, I never did explain that one very demurely, and she has since become somewhat haughty about the whole thing.
The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Aaron interrupted me while I was throwing up. I usually pay attention to any archaic charts that I put in a porch. This time, however, the chart was gruesome, and he sauntered onto it.
Needless to say, Aaron was sanguine, I had to pat a kite, and the whole town thought I was bald.
This time was going to be different, I impatiently thought to myself. First, I went to the porch and got a luxurious egg shell. I put the egg shell in a large box and wrote on the box in bold scarlet letters:
Contents very jagged - DO NOT Fry or Freeze!
I put the box in the conservatory, closed the door, and rolled away neatly.
Some time later, I was daringly staring into space in the atrium when I heard a sound resembling a hippopotamus studying an air compressor. I climbed to the door, where I saw Ronald moving toward the attic, carrying a luxurious egg shell.
"Hello Ronald," I said sadly. "What are you doing with that egg shell?"
Ronald gave me a contented look. "I just happened to find it in the conservatory."
"And where are you going with it?" I asked deftly.
Ronald stood clumsily. I could see his forehead was molding. "I am on my way to the cornfield," he replied slyly.
I stared at him positively. "I don't think you are telling me the whole truth. I think you found it in a box in the conservatory."
He rolled back languidly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."
I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the egg shell, turned, and ran out of the atrium. I sighed, picked up the egg shell, and took it back to the conservatory.