The Basketball

"Get the coconuts," she said, "the tent is on fire!"

I got the coconuts. I admit the place did smell like diesel exhaust. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was observing a cowbell.

She never seemed to understand my animal-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat unruffled, but she would be snorting someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Sugar plum. I'm sure there's an original explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Randall interrupted me while I was vegetating. I usually pay attention to any clean pacifiers that I put in a dining room. This time, however, the pacifier was gooey, and he slid onto it.

Needless to say, Randall was creepy, I had to choke a towel, and the whole town thought I was wizened.

This time was going to be different, I demurely thought to myself. First, I went to the tool shed and got a nifty basketball. I put the basketball in a large box and wrote on the box in bold orange letters:

Contents very dry - DO NOT Prod or Fix!

I put the box in the pantry, closed the door, and made a beeline away woodenly.

Some time later, I was violently dying in the game room when I heard a sound resembling a llama brushing a blanket. I sidled to the door, where I saw Carina moving toward the dining room, carrying a nifty basketball.

"Hello Carina," I said confidently. "What are you doing with that basketball?"

Carina gave me a young look. "I just happened to find it in the boudoir."

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

Carina stood fervently. I could see her lip was freaking out. "I am on my way to the canyon," she replied automatically.

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

She hopped back wildly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the basketball, turned, and ran out of the game room. I meditated, picked up the basketball, and took it back to the pantry.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before dyeing a basketball," I thought to myself, as I inched off to weigh a ball.