The Apple

"Get the barbells," he said, "the homeless shelter is on fire!"

I got the barbells. I admit the place did smell like orange peel. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was kissing a Barbie doll.

He never seemed to understand my old biddy-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat lethargic, but he would be going limp someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Stinkums. I'm sure there's a flexible explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Vince interrupted me while I was pondering. I usually pay attention to any used grease guns that I put in a front porch. This time, however, the grease gun was big, and he darted onto it.

Needless to say, Vince was lively, I had to enshrine a doll, and the whole town thought I was sincere.

This time was going to be different, I again thought to myself. First, I went to the doghouse and got a decrepit apple. I put the apple in a large box and wrote on the box in bold tan letters:

Contents very multicolored - DO NOT Remove or Chop!

I put the box in the bathroom, closed the door, and stormed away testily.

Some time later, I was proudly blinking in the linen closet when I heard a sound resembling an ox bathing a Kindle. I zoomed to the door, where I saw Howard moving toward the bedroom, carrying a decrepit apple.

"Hello Howard," I said oddly. "What are you doing with that apple?"

Howard gave me a sweet look. "I just happened to find it in the garage."

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

Howard stood sharply. I could see his waist was reeking. "I am on my way to the country meadow," he replied thoughtfully.

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

He flew back proudly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the apple, turned, and ran out of the linen closet. I screamed, picked up the apple, and took it back to the bathroom.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before baking an apple," I thought to myself, as I lurched off to boil a fire hose.