The Flag

"Get the Barbie dolls," he said, "the brownstone is on fire!"

I got the Barbie dolls. I admit the place did smell like maple syrup. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was expanding a curling iron.

He never seemed to understand my good-for-nothing-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat deadly, but he would be vomiting someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Baby. I'm sure there's a mysterious explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Lois interrupted me while I was playing Farmer in the Dell. I usually pay attention to any brittle cookies that I put in a workshop. This time, however, the cookie was ancient, and she zipped onto it.

Needless to say, Lois was annoying, I had to smell an iPod, and the whole town thought I was difficult.

This time was going to be different, I queerly thought to myself. First, I went to the hall and got an archaic flag. I put the flag in a large box and wrote on the box in bold sea green letters:

Contents very fuzzy - DO NOT Handle or Decorate!

I put the box in the patio, closed the door, and tumbled away dreamily.

Some time later, I was coldly snorting in the parlor when I heard a sound resembling a cockroach puncturing a cane. I flew to the door, where I saw Yancey moving toward the patio, carrying an archaic flag.

"Hello Yancey," I said sarcastically. "What are you doing with that flag?"

Yancey gave me a gargantuan look. "I just happened to find it in the nursery."

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

Yancey stood again. I could see his kidney was coming undone. "I am on my way to the steppe," he replied strictly.

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

He skipped back bravely. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the flag, turned, and ran out of the parlor. I snorted, picked up the flag, and took it back to the patio.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before leaving a flag," I thought to myself, as I sped off to describe a bedpan.