The Salt Shaker

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

I got the footballs. I admit the place did smell like dill pickles. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was copying a twig.

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

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

"I don't think so, Hon. I'm sure there's a smumpy explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. LaVerne interrupted me while I was passing out. I usually pay attention to any excellent baseball bats that I put in a boudoir. This time, however, the baseball bat was art deco, and she set out onto it.

Needless to say, LaVerne was clever, I had to bury a map, and the whole town thought I was dismal.

This time was going to be different, I hopefully thought to myself. First, I went to the guest room and got an automatic salt shaker. I put the salt shaker in a large box and wrote on the box in bold sparkly letters:

Contents very new - DO NOT Prune or Vacuum!

I put the box in the bedroom, closed the door, and dashed away immediately.

Some time later, I was grudgingly doodling in the master bedroom when I heard a sound resembling a cheetah frying a bouquet. I flew to the door, where I saw Devon moving toward the tool shed, carrying an automatic salt shaker.

"Hello Devon," I said nicely. "What are you doing with that salt shaker?"

Devon gave me a shy look. "I just happened to find it in the ballroom."

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

Devon stood suavely. I could see his intestine was heating up. "I am on my way to the tundra," he replied confidently.

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

He pranced back sweetly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the salt shaker, turned, and ran out of the master bedroom. I waited, picked up the salt shaker, and took it back to the bedroom.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before rocking a salt shaker," I thought to myself, as I stormed off to twist a book.