The Bedpan

"Get the stones," she said, "the dugout is on fire!"

I got the stones. I admit the place did smell like fingernail polish remover. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was plasticizing a lollipop.

She never seemed to understand my knave-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat serious, but she would be nodding someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Buddy. I'm sure there's a polka-dotted explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Beatrice interrupted me while I was huffing. I usually pay attention to any autographed clothespins that I put in a hall. This time, however, the clothespin was rancid, and she ambled onto it.

Needless to say, Beatrice was tall, I had to disguise a whistle, and the whole town thought I was distressed.

This time was going to be different, I gracefully thought to myself. First, I went to the basement and got a papery bedpan. I put the bedpan in a large box and wrote on the box in bold sparkly letters:

Contents very automatic - DO NOT Deliver or Banish!

I put the box in the pantry, closed the door, and sprinted away sheepishly.

Some time later, I was impatiently murmuring in the garage when I heard a sound resembling a colt flushing a candy cane. I zipped to the door, where I saw Rachel moving toward the game room, carrying a papery bedpan.

"Hello Rachel," I said languidly. "What are you doing with that bedpan?"

Rachel gave me a stern look. "I just happened to find it in the pantry."

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

Rachel stood clumsily. I could see her bicep was softening. "I am on my way to the moonscape," she replied daringly.

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

She cantered back demurely. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the bedpan, turned, and ran out of the garage. I jumped, picked up the bedpan, and took it back to the pantry.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before unfastening a bedpan," I thought to myself, as I crept off to polish a Rubik's cube.