Mother: I'm running behind. Andrew: I'm running behind you."" That small bit of word play is just an echo of the other pun that forms the base of Andrew's story. ""Step on it, Andrew,"" says his time-pressed mother, and so Andrew steps smack on every mud puddle on the way to the supermarket. This in turn elicits more side puns: ""Now City Hall's slinging mud at us,"" says a union leader picketing with striking sanitation workers; and the mayor cries ""Here's mud in your eye!"" as he plays a game of sticky wickets (whatever that will mean to a five-year-old!) at a rooftop city council meeting. By the end, Andrew's mud splashing has accidentally caught a bank robber, put out a fire, ended the strike, provided a headline for the newspaper he has also splattered, and brought honors and rewards raining down on him. It's marginally coy, but redeemed by Well's comfortable, sprightly sketches, which make the disruptions seem at once wildly animated and all in a day's rounds.