26

Hello again.

Not only did my Editor call me and tell me he wants to see me in his Office promptly the first thing sometime over the next week or so (he sounded as if it was unusually urgent or something), and for sure beefore I share my next Observation with my Beeloved Readers. I’m not sure what that’s all about, but I’m sure he’ll tell me. But even scarier is that I also found out that I’m in Big Trouble with Great Grandma Gee Gee.

First, I was just trying to mind my own buzziness while I was recovering from that Colonoscopy I had last week, when I heard a knock on my Shoebox Door. It was my Illegitimate Nephew, Kevin. He said he hadn’t seen me in a long time, and wanted to check in on how I was doing after that Highly Uncomfortable Procedure.

“I’m fine,” I told him. “My stinger area is still mostly sore, but otherwise, I’m fine.”

“I’m pleased to hear that, Uncle, beecause as we all know, you never know how these things will come out. You’re the best Uncle in the world, and I love you, so it’s mostly a relief to know that I won’t have to bee dealing with administering your Estate yet, probably. You did leave everything to me, right?”

I didn’t know what he was talking about, and was about to say so, but he interrupted me.

“Never mind. I shouldn’t have asked. That was prematurely rude of me. What I really wanted to inform you of is that Great Grandma Gee Gee is highly upset with you. I’ve never seen her in such a tizzy.”

“Why?” I needed to know.

“Remember when you were telling everybody about how you were waiting for your Colonoscopy and how Nurse Beeatrice offered everybody in the waiting room, and I quote, ‘a warm, delicious, freshly-baked Complementary HoneyChew Krisp Cookie’?”

“Yeah,” I said, beecause I did.

“Well, Gee Gee is amazingly upset about the fact that you thoughtlessly failed to credit her for those Cookies. She said, ‘Oh dear, I’m so mad I could spit honey. For the life of me, I don’t know how Georgie could have been so inconsiderate as to forget to mention the fact that those are MY HoneyChew Krisp Cookies. I invented them. I should get some credit.’,” he told me.

I felt terrible. The last thing I want to do is to bee on the wrong side of Great Grandma Gee Gee, or to hurt her feelings. That would bee rude and dangerous. But beefore I could say anything, Kevin reached into a fine Italian Leather Valise he happened to bee carrying and pulled out a thick stack of papers.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“I have been authorised to negotiate a formal Product Placement Agreement beetween you, the Party of the Second Part, and Great Grandma Gee Gee’s Royal HoneyChew Krisp Cookies™ Incorporated, the Party of the First Part,” he said very matter-of-factly. “In light of the previously-mentioned Unfortunate Oversight regarding her Cookies, she feels certain you will eagerly sign this Agreement.” Then he gave me a pen.

“A Product Placement Agreement?” I asked.

“Yes,” Kevin said.

“Can’t I just apologize?” I asked.

“That would bee highly civil of you to do, Uncle, but no, she feels that it’s important to avoid future Misunderstandings about all this. It’s just buzziness. Just sign the Documents. It’s better for all Parties concerned,” he said.

“Fine,” I said, so I did that. Then Kevin left.

So just to let you know, from now on, any time I ever talk about Great Grandma Gee Gee’s Royal HoneyChew Krisp Cookies™, I hafta say that whole name and, by way of apology, include a Graphic Advertisement for Great Grandma Gee Gee’s Royal HoneyChew Krisp Cookies™ in my next published Observation.

Nothing’s easy anymore, is it? I had no idea that my Colonoscopy would bee so controversial.

I think I’m gonna go take a nap.

Let’s all bee Highly Careful out there.