Prime-Time Perch
I walked back through the front door from my park stroll, kicked off the dust, and climbed straight up onto the living room sofa for eight o'clock viewing. But sitting right between the corduroy cushions was an absolute hazard: a heavy wooden television remote tray tilted completely askew across a crease, its corner threatening to dump the channel guide onto the carpet! Ridiculous! You cannot watch evening television with furniture slanting under you. I planted my boots firmly on the corduroy, locked my plush hands under the timber edge, and hauled upward with one sharp grunt. *Clunk.* It leveled out flat across the seam. With stability restored, I slumped down into the corner, kicked my shoes forward, and let the broadcast roll in uninterrupted peace.

