Curbside Barrel Roll

Wriggled free of that umbrella cave and slipped under the front door to scout the driveway. Parked right on the asphalt was a stiff, corrugated cardboard coffee sleeve, resting wide open on its rim. Naturally... an invitation to roll. I wedged myself inside the cardboard cylinder, planted my feet against the corrugated ribs, and leaned my hat brim forward with one sharp heave. Whoosh. The whole ring went bowling down the driveway incline, spinning me upside down twice before bumping flush against the wooden mailbox post. Dizzy? Maybe a fraction. But the trajectory was pure perfection.