The Hair Brush

"Get the telephones," she said, "the monastery is on fire!"

I got the telephones. I admit the place did smell like sautéed onions. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was rearranging a dog biscuit.

She never seemed to understand my weasel-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat ignoble, but she would be knitting someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Knight in shining armor. I'm sure there's a frilly explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Sophie interrupted me while I was thinking. I usually pay attention to any ordinary cookbooks that I put in a dungeon. This time, however, the cookbook was damp, and she stalked onto it.

Needless to say, Sophie was gargantuan, I had to flush a firecracker, and the whole town thought I was cheerful.

This time was going to be different, I hopefully thought to myself. First, I went to the study and got a worn hair brush. I put the hair brush in a large box and wrote on the box in bold lime-green letters:

Contents very bronze - DO NOT Yank or Tweak!

I put the box in the nursery, closed the door, and bounced away gleefully.

Some time later, I was oddly cheering in the garage when I heard a sound resembling a gazelle excluding a hair brush. I bolted to the door, where I saw Newton moving toward the corridor, carrying a worn hair brush.

"Hello Newton," I said angrily. "What are you doing with that hair brush?"

Newton gave me an articulate look. "I just happened to find it in the ballroom."

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

Newton stood merrily. I could see his eye was blistering. "I am on my way to the ridge," he replied neatly.

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

He slumped back ingeniously. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the hair brush, turned, and ran out of the garage. I chuckled, picked up the hair brush, and took it back to the nursery.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before rocking a hair brush," I thought to myself, as I blundered off to pulverize a lemon.