Something to do with all those ball bearings.

P.J. helped me attach the fins and nose to the rocket today. 

But remember I said me and P.J. weren't sure what to do with the can of ball bearings he brought over? Well, Donald sure did. 

Mom said we had to let him help, so we sat him in the corner with the can of ball bearings and told him to start counting them. We told him it was an important part of the project and that he'd better count carefully.

He counted carefully alright, except he only got to ten. It seems he didn't know where to put the ones he had counted, so he decided a good place would be in his nostrils. Yup, five in each, crammed in nice and tight.

When he started crying I thought it was because he can't count much higher than 15 or 20 - and there must be hundreds of ball bearings in that can. Donald ran inside and I thought we were finally rid of him. But Mom came out yelling something about how it's not funny to make your brother do stupid things and she sent P.J. home.

Donald doesn't really know how to blow his nose, so we spent the next few hours in the emergency room. The doctor didn't have any trouble getting the ball bearings out - they were pretty greasy.

Anyway, P.J.'s not allowed to come over for a couple of days.