Halfway There

"When having a smackerel of something with a friend, don't eat so much that you get stuck in the doorway trying to get out."
-Winnie the Pooh

While hunting for the infamous rascally sweater yesterday evening- a chore I ought to have discarded sooner based on my reliable innate knowledge that the sweater has gone forever- the thought struck me that it may somehow have fallen into the back of the closet onto the floor. Despite this being a physical impossibility the very absence of the thing makes logical discussion redundant and so I decided to have a look. Our sliding closet doors at this present time are not sliding at all and each one is stuck firmly. The two doors are stuck in the middle leaving a measurement of approximately one foot on each side. How on earth I managed to extract every piece of clothing we own from this closet within the narrow confines I have stated is a mystery that I refuse to reveal.
Without considering the consequences very much I pushed the upper portion of my own self into the closet, had a look around in the darkness and proved myself right by not finding the garment.
"Ah, ha!" I said, and made to back out. Frighteningly, I had to push rather hard. It was a fleeting moment of being stuck but I immediately thought of Winnie the Pooh who had suffered a similar encounter. Luckily for the Bear of Little Brain though, he was facing forward into a friendly house when the incident occurred and his comrades were able to keep him company. My mother was on the other end of the phone which was attached to my ear and she would, I am positive, have kept my loneliness at bay should the worst have happened; Spouse, too, was due back from work at any minute. I declare that it is a fine and universally under appreciated thing to not be alone, whether inside a closet or out of it. The degree of trouble that grey sweater is in increases tenfold every day.