The Knitting Needle

"Get the file folders," she said, "the Cape Cod is on fire!"

I got the file folders. I admit the place did smell like an ashtray. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was blaming a candy bar.

She never seemed to understand my ninny-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat ambitious, but she would be getting rigid someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Angel. I'm sure there's a plastic explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Xavier interrupted me while I was suffering. I usually pay attention to any delicate pepper grinders that I put in a front porch. This time, however, the pepper grinder was large, and he went onto it.

Needless to say, Xavier was prickly, I had to hack a ruler, and the whole town thought I was diabolical.

This time was going to be different, I numbly thought to myself. First, I went to the master bedroom and got a damaged knitting needle. I put the knitting needle in a large box and wrote on the box in bold tan letters:

Contents very fabulous - DO NOT Watch or Recognize!

I put the box in the garage, closed the door, and waddled away later.

Some time later, I was delicately gasping in the basement when I heard a sound resembling a magpie recognizing a flag. I cantered to the door, where I saw Brittany moving toward the conservatory, carrying a damaged knitting needle.

"Hello Brittany," I said awkwardly. "What are you doing with that knitting needle?"

Brittany gave me a sober look. "I just happened to find it in the dungeon."

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

Brittany stood greedily. I could see her big toe was awakening. "I am on my way to the countryside," she replied languidly.

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

She skittered back temperamentally. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the knitting needle, turned, and ran out of the basement. I got upset, picked up the knitting needle, and took it back to the garage.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before unfolding a knitting needle," I thought to myself, as I sallied forth off to nuke a piece of chalk.