The Padded Cave

My eyelids were drooping heavy after all that egg timer buzzing! Right beside the dark stovetop, a fat, quilted cotton oven mitt lay slumped across the granite counter. An open fabric tunnel! I scampered over, gripped the thick hem, and wriggled belly-first straight into the thumb pocket. Whoa, way too snug! With a muffled chirp, I backed out, spun around, and dove straight into the wide palm pouch instead. Ah—thick, padded fleece all around like a cloud! I wriggled until my snout and cap popped out from the cuff, then hooked my tail tight inside the lining. What a perfect night bunk!