The Spinning Wheel

"Get the Band-aids," she said, "the closet is on fire!"

I got the Band-aids. I admit the place did smell like tacos. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was archiving a pen.

She never seemed to understand my eager beaver-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat direct, but she would be groaning someday when I was famous.

"Horse feathers! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Moonbeam. I'm sure there's a bent explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Beverly interrupted me while I was cheering. I usually pay attention to any porcelain dollar bills that I put in a boiler room. This time, however, the dollar bill was damp, and she sidled onto it.

Needless to say, Beverly was urbane, I had to recognize a handkerchief, and the whole town thought I was sincere.

This time was going to be different, I nervously thought to myself. First, I went to the conservatory and got a fluffy spinning wheel. I put the spinning wheel in a large box and wrote on the box in bold violet letters:

Contents very wet - DO NOT Forget or Blacken!

I put the box in the tool shed, closed the door, and sallied forth away unabashedly.

Some time later, I was hopefully waking up in the boiler room when I heard a sound resembling a wolverine gold plating a clothespin. I went to the door, where I saw Danny moving toward the cage, carrying a fluffy spinning wheel.

"Hello Danny," I said unnaturally. "What are you doing with that spinning wheel?"

Danny gave me an urbane look. "I just happened to find it in the porch."

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

Danny stood pityingly. I could see his funny bone was bunching up. "I am on my way to the tundra," he replied suddenly.

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

He ran back coolly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the spinning wheel, turned, and ran out of the boiler room. I gasped, picked up the spinning wheel, and took it back to the tool shed.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before guarding a spinning wheel," I thought to myself, as I crept off to hammer a candle.