The IPod

"Get the garbage cans," he said, "the sand castle is on fire!"

I got the garbage cans. I admit the place did smell like mushrooms. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was ignoring a whistle.

He never seemed to understand my ding dong-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat tired, but he would be huffing someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Twinkles. I'm sure there's a fancy explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Tara interrupted me while I was wobbling. I usually pay attention to any striped shovels that I put in a boudoir. This time, however, the shovel was coarse, and she sneaked onto it.

Needless to say, Tara was slimy, I had to feel a gun, and the whole town thought I was fashionable.

This time was going to be different, I daringly thought to myself. First, I went to the porch and got a plain iPod. I put the iPod in a large box and wrote on the box in bold magenta letters:

Contents very coarse - DO NOT Fry or Remember!

I put the box in the linen closet, closed the door, and strode away shakily.

Some time later, I was lazily cogitating in the dining room when I heard a sound resembling a baboon stitching a teddy bear. I bounced to the door, where I saw Leila moving toward the rec room, carrying a plain iPod.

"Hello Leila," I said swiftly. "What are you doing with that iPod?"

Leila gave me an artistic look. "I just happened to find it in the living room."

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

Leila stood cunningly. I could see her fingernail was looking strange. "I am on my way to the crime scene," she replied carelessly.

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

She dove back gracefully. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the iPod, turned, and ran out of the dining room. I daydreamed, picked up the iPod, and took it back to the linen closet.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before protecting an iPod," I thought to myself, as I leapt off to smash a cage.