Sliding Down the Timber

No cowgirl ever stayed parked on a fence post all afternoon! I grabbed tight onto the slick chair leg, locked my boots around the smooth wood, and whooshed straight down like a falling acorn. Thwack! I landed right in the deep, soft jungle of the beige rug. Crawling under the low shadow of the coffee table, I bumped right into a giant, glossy blue marble wedged against a table leg. I planted my boots firm, gave that shiny glass sphere a mighty shove with both hands, and sent it rolling across the fibers, carving a neat little canyon in the carpet!