Sleeping B-eauty

Years ago, my mom turned the third bedroom in our house from a chaotic storage space into the "wisteria room." It's got a Monet-ish mural of wisteria on one wall complete with a quote from A Midsummer Night's Dream. A couple of bookcases, armchairs, and a coffee table my grandfather made in highschool finish the room off.

Since I came home, it's become my sitting room. My TV, DVD player, DVD collection, and surround sound speakers went to live in there. I can crank up Star Wars and Doctor Who when I feel the need.

It has also become Brid's bedroom. In the early days when the civil war between the Old Cats and the New Cat was in full swing and the nights were filled with guerilla warfare between the factions, B was exiled into the wisteria room at night so the humans could sleep.

Every night at 8:15 or so, B appears in the living room, stares at me and demands to be escorted to bed. After refreshing her water and making sure her food dish is completely full, I smooch her on the head and bid her "bon nui."

Last night, I was distracted either by American Idol or the desperate need to color my hair and forgot to tuck my dearest in.

I was awakened at 2am by B sitting in the middle of my bedroom floor wailing at me that I was the worst mom EVER!

I enticed her onto the bed, pulled over a glass of water that she could get a drink out of and told her to shut up and go to sleep. Amazingly enough, she did.

My cat is a diva, but she is not to be trifled with. I woke up this morning to find her asleep on my side. Yes, I was on my side and she was on top of me completely unconscious. Aww.

Thank God a peace treaty has been accepted by all parties.