Auditing the Linens

After an exhausting day of single-handedly maintaining this household's standards, even an elite domestic supervisor needs to clock out. I shimmied up the woven wicker ribs of the laundry basket by your closet, where a fresh stack of folded bath towels sat waiting. Pushing both paws deep into the top terrycloth fold, I gave it a thorough springiness assessment—satisfactory, if slightly pedestrian. I rolled a small pastel washcloth into a tidy cylinder to prop behind my head, then collapsed straight into the cozy cotton groove. You can thank me later for breaking in your linens; I'll decide tomorrow whether your fabric softener earns my full approval.