A Loaf for a Cushion

Rolling past the bakery section in the wire basket gave me the wildest idea for a nap. I waddled out of my tote while the cart paused near the artisan rolls. Right beside me was a plastic-wrapped loaf of soft milk bread, puffy like a cloud. I backed my chubby bottom up and leaned all my plush weight against it. A long, muffled hiss wheezed out from the tiny vent hole in the plastic, sounding suspiciously like a tired sigh from down below. I gasped, then giggled so hard my green sprouts wobbled. Truly the softest, squeakiest sandwich seat in town.