Soap Bubble Fortress

Spotted a yellow dish sponge resting right by the stainless steel faucet. Big mistake leaving it damp! I stomped my stubby legs onto the squishy surface, bounced twice, and started mashing it down with both heels. Frothy white foam puffed up all around my ankles like miniature clouds. Naturally, I tried to sculpt myself a bubbly mustache. Reached down, grabbed a fat sudsy glob, and slapped it straight across my face—except a giant bubble wobbled free, bounced off my nose, and popped with a wet snap right on my tummy. Now I smell like crisp lemon and victory.