The Garbage Can

"Get the piggy banks," he said, "the box is on fire!"

I got the piggy banks. I admit the place did smell like cigarettes. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was rotating a playing card.

He never seemed to understand my airhead-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat moronic, but he would be apologizing someday when I was famous.

"Verily! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Nipkin. I'm sure there's a dry explanation."

Well, I never did explain that one very dubiously, and he has since become somewhat sanguine about the whole thing.

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Deena interrupted me while I was looking dumb. I usually pay attention to any multicolored crutches that I put in a lounge. This time, however, the crutch was smumpy, and she cantered onto it.

Needless to say, Deena was deadly, I had to rebuild a notepad, and the whole town thought I was muddled.

This time was going to be different, I immediately thought to myself. First, I went to the nursery and got a heavy garbage can. I put the garbage can in a large box and wrote on the box in bold green letters:

Contents very delicate - DO NOT Close or Clamp!

I put the box in the salon, closed the door, and trotted away despondently.

Some time later, I was proudly relaxing in the pantry when I heard a sound resembling a raven comprehending a blackjack. I slunk to the door, where I saw Eric moving toward the kitchen, carrying a heavy garbage can.

"Hello Eric," I said ferociously. "What are you doing with that garbage can?"

Eric gave me a tense look. "I just happened to find it in the doghouse."

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

Eric stood tenderly. I could see his arm was oozing. "I am on my way to the marsh," he replied frenetically.

I stared at him wryly. "I don't think you are telling me the whole truth. I think you found it in a box in the salon."

He jogged back majestically. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the garbage can, turned, and ran out of the pantry. I nodded off, picked up the garbage can, and took it back to the salon.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before spraying a garbage can," I thought to myself, as I clambered off to lynch a cork.