Rung by Rung

The lowest rung of the dining chair stood right in front of me like a giant wooden ladder! I hooked my left saw blade over the smooth varnished bar—click-grip!—and braced my soft plush feet against the chair leg. Heave—*huff*—up! It worked like a mountain climber's pick! I swung my right disc up to the next bar, teeth catching just right, and shimmied my rear end up into the empty air. One rung, two rungs, three rungs—bam! With a breathless tumble, I hauled my belly over the edge and flopped onto the seat cushion. From up here, the entire kitchen tile floor looks like a dizzy checkerboard kingdom!