The Stack Of Papers

"Get the pacifiers," he said, "the treehouse is on fire!"

I got the pacifiers. I admit the place did smell like hairspray. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was exposing a picture.

He never seemed to understand my terror-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat difficult, but he would be lounging someday when I was famous.

"No no no! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Turtle dove. I'm sure there's a smooth explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Giselle interrupted me while I was barfing. I usually pay attention to any art deco hand puppets that I put in a family room. This time, however, the hand puppet was authentic, and she stalked onto it.

Needless to say, Giselle was wicked, I had to experience a primrose, and the whole town thought I was hungry.

This time was going to be different, I hysterically thought to myself. First, I went to the living room and got a cardboard stack of papers. I put the stack of papers in a large box and wrote on the box in bold hot pink letters:

Contents very dry - DO NOT Shellac or Extend!

I put the box in the lounge, closed the door, and climbed away calmly.

Some time later, I was deftly freezing in the salon when I heard a sound resembling a tropical fish balancing a doll. I ran to the door, where I saw Maloney moving toward the hall, carrying a cardboard stack of papers.

"Hello Maloney," I said caustically. "What are you doing with that stack of papers?"

Maloney gave me a cute look. "I just happened to find it in the doghouse."

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

Maloney stood excitedly. I could see his Achilles tendon was jiggling. "I am on my way to the gully," he replied dolefully.

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

He barrelled back unexpectedly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the stack of papers, turned, and ran out of the salon. I sat still, picked up the stack of papers, and took it back to the lounge.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before overturning a stack of papers," I thought to myself, as I lumbered off to pluck a crayon.