No Explosions This Year

Uncle Parsons and Aunt Gertrude came for Thanksgiving dinner again this year even after what happened last year.  As you know if you've read my life story, FLAT LIKE FRED, last Thanksgiving I invented Pop-o-Fred, a cornbread stuffing made with popcorn meal, and my parents are still making payments on the new stove.  (My Great Grandma Floodle claims she heard the explosion in Cincinnati, and she's hard of hearing.) So my father said NO THANKSGIVING INVENTIONS THIS YEAR!

There went my plans for the Maniac-o-Matic that buys, washes, slices, chops, and eats the celery for the stuffing.  (I'm not too fond of celery.)  And the Bog-o-Fred, the cranberry picker-cooker that makes cranberry sauce right in the bog.  And the opera-singing turkey baster, which would have really pleased my Aunt Millennia, who always thought she could have been a world-famous opera star except for her one tiny problem:  she can't sing.  (Not even in the shower.  Last time she tried, her high C cracked six tiles on the bathroom wall and badly damaged the light fixture.)

Right now Aunt Millennia's napping in the chair beside the computer, holding in her lap her cat, Rover.  (Uncle Beaumeister wanted a dog.)  Aunt Millennia never says she's napping;  she always says she's "resting her eyes."  But if she slumps forward in her chair another inch, she's going to be in trouble with the SPCA for suffocating Rover.  Maybe I should invent a cat-shaped, snore-activated, shock-generating protective shield, the Snooze-o-Puss.

First, though, I need to make a few refinements to the Tweet-o-Chomp, the flying lunchbox that I invented for my best friend, Claude Hinkey.  He forgets his lunch about four times a week, and then he eats half of mine.  One time he tried duct-taping his lunchbox to his wrist so he wouldn't forget it, but halfway to school his nose itched and when he scratched it, he almost knocked out two front teeth.  So far I've made several versions of the Tweet-o-Chomp, but it still has a few kinks.

More about that next time.  I have to go now.  Aunt Millennia's started to sing in her sleep.  Rover's already scratching at the door to leave.