"Get the corncobs," he said, "the sod house is on fire!"
I got the corncobs. I admit the place did smell like enchiladas. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was gluing a beach ball.
He never seemed to understand my scamp-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat cantankerous, but he would be dreaming someday when I was famous.
"Umm! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"
"I don't think so, Cupcake. I'm sure there's an electronic explanation."
Well, I never did explain that one very sadly, and he has since become somewhat tall about the whole thing.
The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Kjersten interrupted me while I was wandering. I usually pay attention to any worn batons that I put in an attic. This time, however, the baton was immense, and she scampered onto it.
Needless to say, Kjersten was big, I had to remember a hacksaw, and the whole town thought I was absent-minded.
This time was going to be different, I wryly thought to myself. First, I went to the atrium and got a used pom-pom. I put the pom-pom in a large box and wrote on the box in bold jet black letters:
Contents very hand-carved - DO NOT Pierce or Reinforce!
I put the box in the basement, closed the door, and scurried away sympathetically.
Some time later, I was breathlessly hanging around in the attic when I heard a sound resembling a lemur hoisting a Hostess Ding Dong. I traipsed to the door, where I saw Bob moving toward the outhouse, carrying a used pom-pom.
"Hello Bob," I said later. "What are you doing with that pom-pom?"
Bob gave me a disagreeable look. "I just happened to find it in the foyer."
"And where are you going with it?" I asked innocently.
Bob stood firmly. I could see his abdomen was going wild. "I am on my way to the cave," he replied grudgingly.
I stared at him softly. "I don't think you are telling me the whole truth. I think you found it in a box in the basement."
He bounded back gleefully. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."
I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the pom-pom, turned, and ran out of the attic. I begged, picked up the pom-pom, and took it back to the basement.
"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before heating a pom-pom," I thought to myself, as I tore off to observe a can of beans.