All the Wonders of the World

Aunt Monique returned from her trip to the Eastern Michigan Fair with our ten-year-old twin nephews, Henry and Malcolm. “You will never believe what we saw!" she burst out, "It was the most unbelievable thing ever!" She sat cross-legged on the floor before me, and her eyes blazed with the excitement of a twelve-year-old Monique. Katie the Beagle lay down next to her, begging a belly-rub from the center of her universe.

"Pigs? Cows? The tatooed lady?" I guessed, genuinely impressed by the enthusiastic glow with which my wife had returned from the fair.

"They had this circus at the fair with lions and tigers and elephants--"

"We got to ride the elephant," interrupted Malcolm.

"Yeah!" said Henry, nodding his head vigorously.

"He was kinda slow, like this," said Malcolm, and he rocked slowly back and forth sideways, simulating the slow gait of the elephant.

"Wow, that's great," I said. "No wonder you're so excited."

"No, no," said Monique. "That wasn't the exciting part."

"More exciting than riding the elephant?" I asked dubiously.

"So we're at this circus and then they bring out this big kind of metal ball," said Monique, "Kind of a cage, really..."

Malcolm and Henry's heads nodded in agreement.

"... and then they bring out these motorcycles--"

"Oh, yeah, Motorcycles in a Ball, that's a good one," I said.

"Motorcycles in a Ball?" said Monique incredulously. "You've know of this?" she asked.

"Oh sure, it's a good one. They put two motorcycles in the cage and then they start doing loop-de-loops with each other. That's a pretty high-end act for a county fair."

"You've seen this before?" she asked again.

"Oh yeah, and then they'll bring out somebody to stand in the ball, or a third motorcycle--"

"You knew of this, and yet you never told me it existed?"

"Negligent husbanding," I admitted.

"I can't believe you've seen this before. I had no idea there was such a thing."

"It's a good one," I said enthusiastically, not wanting to deflate her bubble.

She shook her head in amazement at, I suppose, the odd bits of this and that that are tucked away in my brain that can still sometimes surprise her.

"So how was your evening alone with Katie the Beagle?" she asked, changing subjects away from the wonders of the fair to the more mundane.

"Oh, the usual," I said. "I stewed up some eggplant for dinner and had it on pasta, watched a little baseball, washed the dishes ... oh, and before I got home the neighbors had to rescue our beagle from the porch roof."

"The neighbors had to what?"

"Oh yeah, while she was home alone Katie the Beagle had a ride that may have been even wilder than Motorcycles in a Ball. Apparently she climbed up on our bed, then onto the dresser, then over the books and onto the windowsill, where she forced the window screen open just enough to squeeze out and climb out onto the porch roof, whence she embarked on a rooftop walkabout. From there she was kind of stranded, though, so eventually she started barking until she drew an audience. Fortunately, one of them was kind enough to rescue her from her predicament."

"She was on the porch roof?!" exclaimed Monique while looking in astonishment at the serene beagle whose belly she was rubbing. Katie the Beagle appeared to the naked eye to be nothing more than 20 pounds of furry contentment.

"Yeah, so, a typical evening," I said, "Baseball on the tube, dish-washing, beagle on the roof..."

"Beagle on the Roof and Motorcycles in a Ball, all in one day," said Monique, shaking her head. "Truly the world is a wondrous and mysterious place."