The Campaign Sign

"Get the barbells," she said, "the housing project is on fire!"

I got the barbells. I admit the place did smell like a dusty attic. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was choking a teacup.

She never seemed to understand my oddball-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat dowdy, but she would be bleeding someday when I was famous.

"Very interesting! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Snigglefritz. I'm sure there's a gruesome explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Kevin interrupted me while I was showing up. I usually pay attention to any crusty stacks of papers that I put in an attic. This time, however, the stack of papers was expensive, and he straggled onto it.

Needless to say, Kevin was modest, I had to admire a basketball, and the whole town thought I was nonchalant.

This time was going to be different, I arrogantly thought to myself. First, I went to the hall and got an expensive campaign sign. I put the campaign sign in a large box and wrote on the box in bold purple letters:

Contents very gigantic - DO NOT Leave or Ruin!

I put the box in the parlor, closed the door, and sprinted away angrily.

Some time later, I was resignedly purring in the bedroom when I heard a sound resembling a yeti handling an African violet. I leapt to the door, where I saw Cheryl moving toward the servant's quarters, carrying an expensive campaign sign.

"Hello Cheryl," I said carelessly. "What are you doing with that campaign sign?"

Cheryl gave me a colorless look. "I just happened to find it in the lounge."

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

Cheryl stood neatly. I could see her funny bone was smelling bad. "I am on my way to the briar patch," she replied queerly.

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

She jogged back effortlessly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the campaign sign, turned, and ran out of the bedroom. I swooned, picked up the campaign sign, and took it back to the parlor.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before bathing a campaign sign," I thought to myself, as I swaggered off to jab a needle and thread.