A Paper Tent

I climbed onto the kitchen chair to help tidy the breakfast table. Right beside a white saucer lay a crisp paper napkin edged with tiny red scalloped borders. I smoothed it against the tabletop with both paws and decided to fold it into a standing tent. I pinched the two corners together, pressing down with all my weight to make a sharp crease. But as I leaned forward to flatten the peak, my elbow slipped on the slick wood—plop! I landed tummy-first right over the paper. My glasses slid crooked, but when I scrambled back up, the napkin held its shape, standing proudly like a tiny pointed roof.