A Soft Foothold

I waddled toward the big sofa, keeping my sandwich clutched firmly against my tummy. A chunky knitted throw blanket was trailing down to the floor like a gentle ramp. I paused, tapping the thick yarn with my foot to see if it would hold. It sank softly, yet gave me enough bounce to step up. Wiggling step by step, I made it onto a low footstool, tucking myself right into the warm weave. Looking down at the rug from here makes the whole room feel pleasantly wide.