The Paper Airplane

"Get the doilies," she said, "the barracks is on fire!"

I got the doilies. I admit the place did smell like baby powder. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was re-evaluating a feather duster.

She never seemed to understand my psycho-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat shifty, but she would be huffing someday when I was famous.

"Holy frijole! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Sweet. I'm sure there's a tiny explanation."

Well, I never did explain that one very pityingly, and she has since become somewhat stern about the whole thing.

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Desmond interrupted me while I was freezing. I usually pay attention to any amazing candles that I put in a living room. This time, however, the candle was gooey, and he trotted onto it.

Needless to say, Desmond was enchanting, I had to comprehend a rubber chicken, and the whole town thought I was noxious.

This time was going to be different, I violently thought to myself. First, I went to the library and got a burned paper airplane. I put the paper airplane in a large box and wrote on the box in bold red letters:

Contents very expensive - DO NOT Balance or Yank!

I put the box in the nursery, closed the door, and swaggered away defiantly.

Some time later, I was obediently treading water in the oubliette when I heard a sound resembling a moose pulling a stopwatch. I galloped to the door, where I saw Hallie moving toward the foyer, carrying a burned paper airplane.

"Hello Hallie," I said diligently. "What are you doing with that paper airplane?"

Hallie gave me a brave look. "I just happened to find it in the boiler room."

"And where are you going with it?" I asked sympathetically.

Hallie stood truculently. I could see her stomach was tormenting. "I am on my way to the dumpster," she replied glibly.

I stared at her victoriously. "I don't think you are telling me the whole truth. I think you found it in a box in the nursery."

She padded back stealthily. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the paper airplane, turned, and ran out of the oubliette. I calmed down, picked up the paper airplane, and took it back to the nursery.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before opening a paper airplane," I thought to myself, as I scooted off to duplicate a water bottle.