EASY AS ONE-TWO-THREE

Sweet Neighbor Girl eyeballed the three baby cantaloupes on the front porch railing the other day and asked what we were going to do with them.

"I don't know. Look at 'em, I guess. They were late bloomers and fell off the rind during the freeze the other night," I said.

"Will you be able to eat them?"

"No. They're green. Do you have any suggestions?" I could see the wheels turning in her mind.

"Do you know how to juggle?" she asked.

"No. Do you?" I asked back.

"No, but I'd like to learn," she said.

"Well, pick 'em up and give it a try. But do it on the grass. We don't want cantaloupe splattered all over the porch."

Thus began the goofiest display of trial and error that I'd ever seen. And that was just with two cantaloupes. Wayward cantaloupes. Very wayward.

"Maybe it'd be easier if you had something smaller to juggle," I said. "I'll go see if I have any tennis balls."

I unsuccessfully scoured my closet looking for a can of them, but by the time I returned to the front yard "stage," she'd run home and come back with two apples. Oh, lord. Here we go again. Ooops, oops, and more oops. The laughter drew Big Bore outside to join the folly.

"What are you doing?" he asked Sweet Neighbor Girl. "Trying to make applesauce?"

The apples eventually busted into about a dozen juicy pieces, but she kept trying and then finally finished her performance with a flourish--"Da-dum!"

"I think we need to find you something better to practice with," I said.

"Yeah. Some eggs," suggested Big Bore.

You can always count on a man to come up with a brilliant idea.