The Woolly Goal

A chunky grey wool sock had escaped from the laundry basket and was sitting right in the middle of the hallway runner. Treating it like an official evening match, I dropped into a ready crouch and lined up my shot. Nudging the soft bundle with my nose, I guided it gliding across the smooth wooden floorboards. It wobbled near the shoe rack, but I quickly pivoted on all fours and gave it one firm, athletic heave. With a soft thump, it landed neatly back against the wicker hamper. That is what I call a spotless defense!