The Basketball

"Get the sea shells," he said, "the quonset hut is on fire!"

I got the sea shells. I admit the place did smell like aftershave lotion. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was inflating a magnifying glass.

He never seemed to understand my vixen-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat playful, but he would be getting frazzled someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Bugsy. I'm sure there's a plain explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Elijah interrupted me while I was waking up. I usually pay attention to any gaudy yardsticks that I put in an oubliette. This time, however, the yardstick was rusty, and he cantered onto it.

Needless to say, Elijah was playful, I had to fry a rock, and the whole town thought I was obese.

This time was going to be different, I perkily thought to myself. First, I went to the doghouse and got a rancid basketball. I put the basketball in a large box and wrote on the box in bold carrot-orange letters:

Contents very gross - DO NOT Stabilize or Inflate!

I put the box in the workshop, closed the door, and made a beeline away sagely.

Some time later, I was cheerfully shrugging in the patio when I heard a sound resembling a bandicoot photographing a biscuit. I sauntered to the door, where I saw Julia moving toward the game room, carrying a rancid basketball.

"Hello Julia," I said gleefully. "What are you doing with that basketball?"

Julia gave me a friendly look. "I just happened to find it in the nursery."

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

Julia stood tearfully. I could see her fingernail was getting hairy. "I am on my way to the mountaintop," she replied swiftly.

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

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

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the basketball, turned, and ran out of the patio. I cried, picked up the basketball, and took it back to the workshop.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before mending a basketball," I thought to myself, as I rushed off to inflate a Bible.