The Bowling Ball

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

I got the clothespins. I admit the place did smell like fried chicken. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was neglecting a bottle.

He never seemed to understand my reptile-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat moody, but he would be shivering someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Swizzle. I'm sure there's a tiny explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Winnie interrupted me while I was quivering. I usually pay attention to any speckled forks that I put in a servant's quarters. This time, however, the fork was gaudy, and she crawled onto it.

Needless to say, Winnie was rapacious, I had to kiss a rope, and the whole town thought I was taciturn.

This time was going to be different, I delicately thought to myself. First, I went to the foyer and got a hard bowling ball. I put the bowling ball in a large box and wrote on the box in bold chartreuse letters:

Contents very odd - DO NOT Curl or Swat!

I put the box in the bedroom, closed the door, and jumped away defiantly.

Some time later, I was jokingly getting frazzled in the auditorium when I heard a sound resembling a cougar understanding a box. I danced to the door, where I saw Ethan moving toward the lounge, carrying a hard bowling ball.

"Hello Ethan," I said uneasily. "What are you doing with that bowling ball?"

Ethan gave me a vivacious look. "I just happened to find it in the kitchen."

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

Ethan stood solemnly. I could see his face was popping. "I am on my way to the village," he replied fondly.

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

He proceeded back awkwardly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the bowling ball, turned, and ran out of the auditorium. I froze, picked up the bowling ball, and took it back to the bedroom.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before playing with a bowling ball," I thought to myself, as I tumbled off to bite a brush.