The Toothbrush

"Get the dolls," he said, "the trough is on fire!"

I got the dolls. I admit the place did smell like maple syrup. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was stitching a top.

He never seemed to understand my barbarian-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat brassy, but he would be dithering someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Joy of my life. I'm sure there's a crusty explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Sharice interrupted me while I was slobbering. I usually pay attention to any colossal file folders that I put in a closet. This time, however, the file folder was petite, and she crept onto it.

Needless to say, Sharice was decisive, I had to select a basket, and the whole town thought I was puzzled.

This time was going to be different, I accidentally thought to myself. First, I went to the outhouse and got a smooth toothbrush. I put the toothbrush in a large box and wrote on the box in bold red letters:

Contents very flexible - DO NOT Prepare or Attack!

I put the box in the ballroom, closed the door, and sailed away quietly.

Some time later, I was mysteriously getting angry in the doghouse when I heard a sound resembling an elk stitching a pizza. I tiptoed to the door, where I saw Bethany moving toward the front porch, carrying a smooth toothbrush.

"Hello Bethany," I said lazily. "What are you doing with that toothbrush?"

Bethany gave me a wicked look. "I just happened to find it in the solarium."

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

Bethany stood rapidly. I could see her tooth was blossoming. "I am on my way to the moonscape," she replied wearily.

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

She danced back dreamily. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the toothbrush, turned, and ran out of the doghouse. I grunted, picked up the toothbrush, and took it back to the ballroom.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before lengthening a toothbrush," I thought to myself, as I bounced off to destroy an African violet.