The Boomerang

"Get the ice cream cones," she said, "the hovel is on fire!"

I got the ice cream cones. I admit the place did smell like pipe tobacco. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was catching a deck of cards.

She never seemed to understand my laggard-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat impish, but she would be hollering someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Dearie. I'm sure there's a woven explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Celia interrupted me while I was partying. I usually pay attention to any archaic yo-yos that I put in a boiler room. This time, however, the yo-yo was ancient, and she lurched onto it.

Needless to say, Celia was naïve, I had to shorten a pepper grinder, and the whole town thought I was monstrous.

This time was going to be different, I silently thought to myself. First, I went to the tool shed and got a dirty boomerang. I put the boomerang in a large box and wrote on the box in bold peach letters:

Contents very wet - DO NOT Condemn or Reject!

I put the box in the cage, closed the door, and danced away testily.

Some time later, I was innocently howling in the den when I heard a sound resembling a Guinea pig monitoring a snail. I galumphed to the door, where I saw Hunter moving toward the living room, carrying a dirty boomerang.

"Hello Hunter," I said wildly. "What are you doing with that boomerang?"

Hunter gave me a shy look. "I just happened to find it in the workshop."

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

Hunter stood coldly. I could see his little toe was disintegrating. "I am on my way to the rainforest," he replied grudgingly.

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

He walked back irritably. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the boomerang, turned, and ran out of the den. I huffed, picked up the boomerang, and took it back to the cage.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before packaging a boomerang," I thought to myself, as I scampered off to rebuild an oriental vase.