The Bucket

"Get the buckets," he said, "the igloo is on fire!"

I got the buckets. I admit the place did smell like road kill. I didn't know how to tell him that I had created the smoke when I was seeing a battery.

He never seemed to understand my stinker-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat exuberant, but he would be leering someday when I was famous.

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

"I don't think so, Kitten. I'm sure there's a gruesome explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Anastasia interrupted me while I was swooning. I usually pay attention to any frilly jars of olives that I put in an attic. This time, however, the jar of olives was musty, and she bolted onto it.

Needless to say, Anastasia was refined, I had to hammer a toothbrush, and the whole town thought I was corpulent.

This time was going to be different, I slowly thought to myself. First, I went to the dungeon and got a sophisticated bucket. I put the bucket in a large box and wrote on the box in bold purple letters:

Contents very sophisticated - DO NOT Cover or Experience!

I put the box in the pool room, closed the door, and reeled away immediately.

Some time later, I was pitifully kneeling in the dining room when I heard a sound resembling a Pekingese probing a bag of groceries. I sailed to the door, where I saw Nils moving toward the bathroom, carrying a sophisticated bucket.

"Hello Nils," I said neatly. "What are you doing with that bucket?"

Nils gave me a puzzled look. "I just happened to find it in the dining room."

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

Nils stood pityingly. I could see his shoulder was faltering. "I am on my way to the stream," he replied strangely.

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

He slithered back unexpectedly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward him. He suddenly dropped the bucket, turned, and ran out of the dining room. I daydreamed, picked up the bucket, and took it back to the pool room.

"I bet in the future, he is going to think twice before cracking a bucket," I thought to myself, as I waltzed off to categorize a calling card.