The Hiccuping Teapot

On a shelf in a warm kitchen lived a round blue teapot named Pip, and Pip had the hiccups. Not ordinary hiccups. Teapot hiccups. Each one went HIC — and out the spout puffed a little cloud of steam shaped like something. A steam mouse. A steam boat. A steam question mark that hung in the air, wondering. HIC. Steam cloud. HIC. Another one. HIC. And the whole shelf giggled. "Try holding your breath," said the sugar bowl, who was very organized and liked to help. Pip tried. Pip's cheeks — if a teapot can be said to have cheeks — puffed out round and blue and enormous. Pip held. Pip held some more. Pip turned a deeper shade of blue.