A Circus in Every Pot
"When you joined the circus, I didn't think you'd bring the circus home with you!" He looked frantically around the living room, festooned with tentpoles and colorful banners. "Well, honey," she said, "I didn't expect it either. But the circus lost its lease all of a sudden, and it needs someplace to stay. I was serious about the commitment I made to the circus, so I'm not about to turn it away."
"Is... is it going to be for long?" He stared into the kitchen where a monkey was frying some bananas.
"Just until the circus can get back on its feet. I wish I had a better idea than that, but, you know—"
"Yeah, you're not about to turn it away," he said. "I'm going to bed. I think I could use a good night's sleep."
"Oh, um," she said, "wait. I think Jerome's still in there."
"Who's Jerome?"
"Lead elephant."
He stared at him blankly. "How did an elephant fit into my room?"
She shrugged. "No one's sure. But don't worry, the clowns are working on getting him out. They're pretty sure that if they can get their car in there, they can squeeze Jerome in and drive him out."
"Great," he said, sounding hollow. "Honey! Where am I going to sleep?"
"I'm sure there's a spare hammock around here. Or you could join the sleep pile on the safety net. We're going to string it across the living room once we finish watching Crocodile Dundee. The trained crocodiles think it's hilarious."
He stared at her. "I'm getting a hotel room. You tell me when this is over, and then you can have your husband back."
Her cries followed him out among the wagons and half-built tents, and all the way to his car, where he drove away.