Test Drive

Mmph mmph! You told me to get a driver's license and start driving, so I claimed the best ride around—a giant fleece house slipper right off the rug. I squeezed myself straight into the dark, curved toe box, wedging a round plastic jar lid against the fuzzy inner lining to use as my steering wheel. Mmm-ph! I even cut a tiny rectangle from an old cereal box and scribbled a wobbly little face on it for my official permit. When I shoved my boots against the heel to shift into gear, the squishy slipper tipped sideways, dumping me headfirst onto the floorboards with a muffled thump. I didn't even flinch—I just dusted my hood off and crawled right back into the toe.