A Bowtie for Bedtime

I slipped back inside after my busy afternoon outside and padded straight across the floorboards to check on my little pig. On my way past the kitchen doorway, I spotted a hard, golden bowtie pasta noodle sitting near the baseboard. I gave one of the crinkly edges a bold, hearty bite—it snapped with a loud, crunchy crack and tasted wonderfully starchy and dry! Carrying the rest between both of my hands, I trotted over to our quiet corner by the table leg. The little pink pig was nestled inside its wool sock, so I gently tucked the pasta bowtie right beneath its chin. It looked terribly dashing for bedtime.