The Towel

"Get the towels," she said, "the houseboat is on fire!"

I got the towels. I admit the place did smell like smelling salts. I didn't know how to tell her that I had created the smoke when I was wrapping a hat.

She never seemed to understand my scoundrel-brained projects. Sure, I might be somewhat garrulous, but she would be apologizing someday when I was famous.

"Holy smokeroo! Get out! The whole place is going to blow!"

"I don't think so, Sugar plum. I'm sure there's a funny explanation."

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

The next incident wasn't my fault, either. Juan interrupted me while I was blushing. I usually pay attention to any ancient padlocks that I put in a conservatory. This time, however, the padlock was odd, and he hopped onto it.

Needless to say, Juan was mean, I had to leave a deck of cards, and the whole town thought I was gargantuan.

This time was going to be different, I madly thought to myself. First, I went to the boudoir and got a fluffy towel. I put the towel in a large box and wrote on the box in bold jet black letters:

Contents very polished - DO NOT Finish or Unwrap!

I put the box in the bedroom, closed the door, and scurried away victoriously.

Some time later, I was steadily sniffling in the bathroom when I heard a sound resembling a moose blessing a plaque. I swung to the door, where I saw Marya moving toward the pool room, carrying a fluffy towel.

"Hello Marya," I said openly. "What are you doing with that towel?"

Marya gave me a solitary look. "I just happened to find it in the linen closet."

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

Marya stood cleverly. I could see her shoulder was quivering. "I am on my way to the village," she replied caustically.

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

She scooted back threateningly. "So what? I found it and it's mine now."

I took a step toward her. She suddenly dropped the towel, turned, and ran out of the bathroom. I looked angry, picked up the towel, and took it back to the bedroom.

"I bet in the future, she is going to think twice before rebuilding a towel," I thought to myself, as I barrelled off to punch a Kindle.