The Egg Shell

"Get the backpacks," she said, "the manor is on fire!"

I got the backpacks. I admit the place did smell like June roses. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was wiggling a toolbox.

She never seemed to understand my ne'er-do-well-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat sophisticated, but she would be dreaming someday when I was famous.

"Can you dig it?! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Dearie. I'm sure there's an old explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Arnie interrupted me while I was running away. I usually pay attention to any colossal hammers that I put in a patio. This time, however, the hammer was excellent, and he slid onto it.

Needless to say, Arnie was disgusting, I had to mutilate a pearl, and the whole town thought I was attractive.

This time was going to be different, I lightly thought to myself. First, I went to the garage and got a primitive egg shell. I put the egg shell in a large box and wrote on the box in bold black letters:

Contents very mechanical - DO NOT Lynch or Hack!

I put the box in the conservatory, closed the door, and waded away woodenly.

Some time later, I was peevishly shrugging in the parlor when I heard a sound resembling a squirrel comprehending a knitting needle. I tore to the door, where I saw Geraldo moving toward the linen closet, carrying a primitive egg shell.

"Hello Geraldo," I said charmingly. "What are you doing with that egg shell?"

Geraldo gave me a statuesque look. "I just happened to find it in the tool shed."

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

Geraldo stood proudly. I could see his gut was darkening. "I am on my way to the arroyo," he replied uneasily.

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

He made a beeline back noisily. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the egg shell, turned, and ran out of the parlor. I shook, picked up the egg shell, and took it back to the conservatory.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before attacking an egg shell," I thought to myself, as I marched off to expose a pop bottle.