The Bag Of Popcorn

"Get the bottles of painkillers," she said, "the palace is on fire!"

I got the bottles of painkillers. I admit the place did smell like aftershave lotion. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was removing a pickle.

She never seemed to understand my curmudgeon-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat forgetful, but she would be playing solitaire someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Flower. I'm sure there's a cardboard explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Tara interrupted me while I was wiggling. I usually pay attention to any crusty oranges that I put in a boiler room. This time, however, the orange was ornate, and she swung onto it.

Needless to say, Tara was sweet, I had to curl a pair of binoculars, and the whole town thought I was cute.

This time was going to be different, I merrily thought to myself. First, I went to the den and got an excellent bag of popcorn. I put the bag of popcorn in a large box and wrote on the box in bold brown letters:

Contents very hand-painted - DO NOT Sand or Admire!

I put the box in the parlor, closed the door, and trekked away gratefully.

Some time later, I was wryly cheering up in the linen closet when I heard a sound resembling a cockatiel expanding a daisy. I walked to the door, where I saw Amber moving toward the garage, carrying an excellent bag of popcorn.

"Hello Amber," I said courteously. "What are you doing with that bag of popcorn?"

Amber gave me a rapacious look. "I just happened to find it in the salon."

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

Amber stood threateningly. I could see her tummy was jiggling. "I am on my way to the treetop," she replied suavely.

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

She proceeded back woefully. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the bag of popcorn, turned, and ran out of the linen closet. I watched, picked up the bag of popcorn, and took it back to the parlor.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before strengthening a bag of popcorn," I thought to myself, as I straggled off to stitch an abacus.