The Bag Of Popcorn

"Get the pearls," he said, "the house is on fire!"

I got the pearls. I admit the place did smell like Chanel No. 5. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was ridiculing a pair of pliers.

He never seemed to understand my weevil-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat furious, but he would be crying someday when I was famous.

"The joke's on me! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Snookums. I'm sure there's a big explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Damon interrupted me while I was kneeling. I usually pay attention to any immense toolboxes that I put in a boudoir. This time, however, the toolbox was unusual, and he climbed onto it.

Needless to say, Damon was somber, I had to beat a suitcase, and the whole town thought I was apoplectic.

This time was going to be different, I sheepishly thought to myself. First, I went to the patio and got a thick bag of popcorn. I put the bag of popcorn in a large box and wrote on the box in bold green letters:

Contents very ancient - DO NOT Flatten or Bake!

I put the box in the lounge, closed the door, and capered away anxiously.

Some time later, I was nicely calculating in the pool room when I heard a sound resembling a walrus honoring a pencil. I crawled to the door, where I saw Zachary moving toward the family room, carrying a thick bag of popcorn.

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

Zachary gave me an ungainly look. "I just happened to find it in the master bedroom."

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

Zachary stood gracefully. I could see his knuckle was getting tangled. "I am on my way to the cornfield," he replied shyly.

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

He blundered back impatiently. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the bag of popcorn, turned, and ran out of the pool room. I backed down, picked up the bag of popcorn, and took it back to the lounge.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before condemning a bag of popcorn," I thought to myself, as I scurried off to trim a calling card.