September 26, 2004



My 8 year old second cousin sat on the shelf next to me. She spent her days complaining to me, Lumberman 650, that humans always passed her by and went for her 20 brothers and sisters. Today was no different.

"Lumbie," she cried plaintively. "I really want a small human to take me home with them. I'm sick of sitting here all the time! I wanna play with Auntie Efficient 20, 'cause no offense, but you're really boring. I hate sleeping here 'cause it's so dark and I'm scared of the dark!" Right then she traditionally paused to whimper and I silently groaned. If I didn't stop her now, she'd go on and on all day and I'd go completely mental. Honestly, she said the same thing every day, at the same time, in the same order, and I was sick of it.

"Sharper 300," I hissed quietly. "The only reason I'm so boring is because you never have anything interesting to say. Now hush because two men are coming this way." Sharper 300 frowned at me, but shut up. Finally.

..."this is a newer version than the Lumberman 650, but the Lumberman is much more sturdy and accurate," the salesman said to a very interested man about Sharper 300. The man picked me up and began inspecting me so intensely, I began to feel slightly embarrassed.

"I'll take it," he announced. The salesman looked triumphant, for some reason I couldn't figure out. The man would've bought me for no good reason at all. He just seemed like that kind of guy.

The eager man went up to the counter, bought me, and lovingly, it seemed placed me on the front seat of his car (at least, I think that's what they're called) and carried me to my new home.


The first thing the man did was lay me on a couch and say to me, "My name is Kevin, and the first thing you'll be doing is cutting down the trees in my backyard. You will sleep in the shed outside, but if I am especially pleased with you, you'll sleep in my room. Okay?"

I was petrified. I've seen and heard enough humans talk to know enough about them. And I knew that humans did not talk to their objects, nor did they wait for them to respond. Well, not normal ones anyway. This...Kevin was obviously demented. Why, oh why, was I stuck with HIM, of all people?


"Today you'll help me cut down these trees and then we'll tackle the one in the front, and then we'll go over to my friend Robert's house and do his, and then probably we'll get a Christmas tree early this year. Okay?"

He wanted me to cut down his trees, his friend's trees, and he wanted to get a Christmas tree early this year. I may be impressive looking and all of that, but I wasn't really made for all of this work. My father would be more fitted for this, um, these jobs. And he had a friend? Seriously? I had to see the idiot.

We started cutting down a cute-looking sapling. We moved on to more saplings and then started on a huge pine tree. Luckily, his neighbor stopped him just in time. "Say, Kevin. Isn't that my pine tree? And where are the saplings I just planted?" Just great. All that hard work for absolutely no reason whatsoever. I was greatly tempted to slice across Kevin's arm, just to give him a taste of my temper. I held off while he argued with his neighbor over a bunch of trees, but vowed to get my revenge sometime.


Here's The Complete List of all of His Other Idiotic Projects:

(a) Splitting pencils apart and selling the lead. (Who needs lead? And if anyone did, they could just split open their own pencils).

(b) Adopting 10 dogs on the same day. (They only stayed for about a week. They ran away and were found cowering in a hole about a block away. Needless to say, Kevin didn't get them back).

(c) Attempting to cut a hole in the roof of his bedroom because he wanted a skylight. (It rained that night. He covered that hole up in a hurry).

(d) Building an attachment to his kitchen by cutting a hole in the wall and attaching 3 pieces of board to the hole. (Need I say more? I didn't think so).

I was ashamed of the fact that I was used to do these projects. However, the apple project was THE most idiotic, completely foolish, and altogether ridiculous project he has ever done and will ever do. (Hopefully. You really can't tell with him). How he got the idea to do something so stupid still baffles me.


It was a sunny afternoon. Kevin was bored out of his mind and I was just glad to be finally getting some rest. He went to the kitchen to get something else to eat for the gazillionth time, and I looked at him in amazement. It was a wonder that he wasn't bursting at the seams yet.

Kevin came back with an apple and began eating when he had his MOMENT. This MOMENT was when he thought up all of these "projects." I just can't help but get scared when he has IT, because IT almost always involves me. He usually gets these MOMENTS when he's eating. Hmmm...

"You know, Lumberman 650, I just had the greatest idea I've had yet." Oh no. He always says that. I groaned silently as he continued, "I'm going to show you, but I'll be using a butter knife as an example instead of you." With that said, he grabbed a butter knife from the kitchen counter and carved his initials into an apple. "Ta da!" I was stumped. What exactly was the point of this? Oh right, he was demented. He wasn't exactly thinking too clearly. Wow. Of all the idiotic things, this most definitely topped them.

The very next day, his friend Robert came over and agreed, however reluctantly, to assist Kevin with his project. Robert was a little over six feet tall and seemed to be the equivalent of a doormat. He let people walk all over him.

That day, Kevin discovered that because of Robert's height and the way I wobbled violently because I was so unwieldy, it was much easier if Robert knelt while holding the sacrificial apple in his mouth, so that he (Kevin) could manage me better. Ha! There was a slim chance of that happening any time soon.

With about six days of practice, Kevin felt that he was ready to debut at a Memorial Day Picnic. Robert, being a doormat and all, reluctantly agreed to participate in Kevin's outrageous plan. Kevin came up with another of his ideas. This one sounded like it actually had potential. Here it is: Robert would stay in the audience, and when Kevin called for a volunteer, he would raise his hand and volunteer. This way, it would seem like an impromptu, spur-of-the-moment thing.

The way I saw it, this debut thing was one of the worst ideas Kevin had in all the time I'd lived at his house. And that's really saying something (does The Complete List of all of His Other Idiotic Projects ring a bell?)


The morning of the Memorial Day picnic and Kevin's debut, I felt slightly apprehensive and I thought I knew why. Something was definitely going to go wrong. After all, this is Kevin we're talking about. Judging by his gleeful look as he finished making breakfast, he obviously did not feel the same way I did. Completely the opposite, actually. He was excited, to say the very least. Bouncing-off-the-walls-because-of-hyperactivity excited. Geez.

He and Robert did not arrive together, or that would raise suspicions when Kevin chose him as a volunteer. Just as I was about to turn myself to the off position, Kevin leapt up on stage with me in tow, and announced what he was going to do. Several people gasped, overprotective mothers covered their children's eyes, and I distinctly saw an old lady and the bartender inch toward the back of the crowd, so that they could leave as inconspicuously as possible.

"I need a volunteer. Who would like to volunteer?" We waited for Robert to come up, but he never did. "Me, me," a pretty lady exclaimed. She ran up to where we were as Kevin said soothingly, "I believe the gentleman in the back raised his hand." Yes, there was Robert meekly raising a hand. Kevin glared at him. If looks could kill, Robert would be dead and gone.

Kevin allowed the young lady to come for fear of the crowd and asked her what her name was. "Betsy Smith," she said. Kevin blanched and I realized what the problem was. First off, he had been practicing Robert's initials for six days and no idea how to do Betsy's. Secondly, her initials were both curved and that was nearly impossible to carve into an apple by a chainsaw.

Nevertheless, Kevin had Betsy hold the apple in her mouth and began to use me to carve the initials. Shards of apple flew everywhere and some apple juice dribbled down Betsy's cheek. Suddenly, the unthinkable happened. My chain broke, and I accidentally-on-purpose sliced part of Betsy's cheek. Everything was chaotic after that.


Two Weeks Later: I was back to being a part of Kevin's household. He had me fixed and told me that he kept me as a reminder of BB, Before Betsy. Yes, Betsy went to the hospital and got stitches, and after Kevin got out of jail because she posted bail for him, they went out for a milkshake. Now Betsy comes over almost every night and it's driving me crazy, having two complete idiots in the house all the time.

Oh well, I guess I'll live. It isn't much different from living with Kevin, except that now Betsy's gotten it into her head that she wants to do that skylight thing in Kevin's bedroom again. Good riddance, I say. Don't come complaining to me when it rains in your bedroom again. Like I always say, one idiot deserves another.