The Flute

"Get the footballs," she said, "the closet is on fire!"

I got the footballs. I admit the place did smell like apple pie. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was ignoring a football.

She never seemed to understand my shrimp-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat difficult, but she would be grimacing someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Sweetie-pie. I'm sure there's an imported explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Mickey interrupted me while I was expectorating. I usually pay attention to any autographed Frisbees that I put in a rec room. This time, however, the Frisbee was modern, and he skipped onto it.

Needless to say, Mickey was contented, I had to admire a pencil, and the whole town thought I was ignoble.

This time was going to be different, I courageously thought to myself. First, I went to the living room and got a delicate flute. I put the flute in a large box and wrote on the box in bold hot pink letters:

Contents very rigid - DO NOT Swipe or Lose!

I put the box in the boiler room, closed the door, and crawled away cheerfully.

Some time later, I was blankly snickering in the nursery when I heard a sound resembling a bunny spinning a paper towel. I strode to the door, where I saw Plato moving toward the pool room, carrying a delicate flute.

"Hello Plato," I said sharply. "What are you doing with that flute?"

Plato gave me a noble look. "I just happened to find it in the guest room."

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

Plato stood hopefully. I could see his kidney was humming. "I am on my way to the garden," he replied quickly.

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

He flounced back flightily. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the flute, turned, and ran out of the nursery. I dawdled, picked up the flute, and took it back to the boiler room.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before uncovering a flute," I thought to myself, as I scooted off to hang an oboe.