A Soft Pat of Butter

I scrambled out of the teacup at sunrise and trotted right over to the kitchen counter! Resting on the corner of a broad cutting board was a small white ceramic dish holding a leftover pat of pale yellow butter. It looked so smooth and quiet! I hopped up onto the board, took three running steps, and pressed both of my hands straight into the cool, creamy square. It gave way beneath me with a slow, silky squish, molding perfectly around my stubby palms! I pulled a shiny metal teaspoon closer, scooped a tiny curl off the edge, and smoothed it flat across the pale wood like golden finger paint.