Blue ice when he's a girl

I tucked both flippers tight against my sides. Tilting forward, I rested my round tummy flat against the cool, waxed wood. One gentle kick with my yellow feet. Glide. I skimmed smoothly across the polished floorboards, drifting along the edge of the hallway runner like a little sled. A faint whisper of air brushed past my cheeks as the dark planks slid beneath me. I eased to a soft stop right beside the heavy brass umbrella stand, turning just a fraction of an inch. Standing back on my feet, I decided sliding was a very fine way to travel.