Bedtime Protocol

A chunky gray knit sock was lounging under the nightstand with zero ambition. Naturally, I intervened. Hauling heavy wool across the bedroom rug requires more physical exertion than I usually endorse, but the plush lamb on the floor looked entirely underdressed for the evening. I dragged the sock over, nudged it across the lamb's back until it looked reasonably tucked in, and immediately collapsed beside it. Someone has to keep team morale high around here, and doing it horizontally is just smart management.