Moe Speaks: I Did Not Eat Matches

As soon as she came in the door this evening, I could tell Mom had a long day--she looked just plain crashed out. I was trying to be comforting (jumping, wagging, licking) when she walked into the living room and let out a big "ARRGH!" It was the kind of sound that I knew meant trouble.

See there's a little vase by our fireplace that has lots of seashells and stuff in it, and I had accidently knocked it over earlier. But that wasn't really what Mom was upset about, as I quickly found out.

"Where are the rest of the matches Moe?" she kept saying, as she frantically looked around, holding a single match in her hand. 

What I knew and Mom didn't, was that this was not the first time I had knocked over the vase today. The first time, the little box of matches that Mom keeps there to light fires came tumbling out. I nosed at the box enough to spill the matches everywhere--I even licked one a little--but I quickly learned that matches don't taste or smell good, so I left them alone. When Dad came home for lunch he picked up the matches and threw them away, but he accidently missed just one.

I tried to communicate all of this to Mom--I didn't want her to worry that I was poisoned--but she just wasn't getting the message. Thankfully, just then Dad came home and told her what really happened. 

I'll admit, I 've had a few "culinary adventures" but matches? Yuck!