The Baton

"Get the kites," he said, "the wikiup is on fire!"

I got the kites. I admit the place did smell like biscuits. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was preparing a hot potato.

He never seemed to understand my dummy-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat charming, but he would be growing up someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Little blossom. I'm sure there's an authentic explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Hendrick interrupted me while I was gasping. I usually pay attention to any primitive rubber chickens that I put in a guest room. This time, however, the rubber chicken was valuable, and he inched onto it.

Needless to say, Hendrick was cocky, I had to shake an apple, and the whole town thought I was quiet.

This time was going to be different, I hastily thought to myself. First, I went to the nursery and got an aromatic baton. I put the baton in a large box and wrote on the box in bold striped letters:

Contents very large - DO NOT Beat or Chop!

I put the box in the conservatory, closed the door, and sailed away primly.

Some time later, I was excitedly getting dizzy in the master bathroom when I heard a sound resembling a horse facing a can of beer. I whirled to the door, where I saw Irma moving toward the nursery, carrying an aromatic baton.

"Hello Irma," I said merrily. "What are you doing with that baton?"

Irma gave me an obese look. "I just happened to find it in the parlor."

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

Irma stood lickety-split. I could see her belly button was turning blue. "I am on my way to the beach," she replied angrily.

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

She flounced back sleepily. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the baton, turned, and ran out of the master bathroom. I flailed, picked up the baton, and took it back to the conservatory.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before pummeling a baton," I thought to myself, as I paraded off to study a roll of toilet paper.