Sleepy Sybil

I had a broken night. I wouldn't describe it as a bad night, but it wasn't uninterrupted. It felt a bit like a comedy routine.

I managed a relatively early night, which isn't always possible. Then little bear came down at 3.15 am - he was cold and he wanted to sleep on the sofa. He has been quite clingy recently so I think he is feeling a bit lost. Sleeping in the room next to mummy with an open door probably helps. He went to sleep straight away - just lay down, shut his eyes and as far as I could tell was out for the count. I wasn't so lucky, I had been woken in the middle of a dream about Nora Batty, and it took me a while to settle down.

5am evil cat started a bravura performance of cat opera. She was singing her furry lungs out, she was hitting all the notes and yowls with absolutely ear splitting volume. Little bear slept through it, and I got up and fed her so that little bear didn't get woken up.

As an aside, I risked getting some Asda own brand kitten food for evil cat. She refused to countenance it. Once she did actually eat Netto's own brand cat food, until malevolent cat took her to one side and explained to her that this was one of the things that One Did Not Do, and that properly trained owners always gave in first. She is currently in the middle of a pack of Whiskas kitten food with gravy and she seems to approve of that. She did at 5am, anyway.

I went back to sleep relatively quickly. My body clock does not like early starts, so I was hoping that little bear would sleep a little longer. He did, actually. He woke around an hour later than normal, at 6.45, demanding chocolate biscuits for breakfast. That was an interesting start to the day. I tolerate the sugary rubbish that is breakfast cereal but I don't like it. Chocolate biscuits are a step far too far. Though I am not sure that the sugar puffs he had instead were much better. Sugar puffs have added things. I wish little bear would have porridge.

So I am posting here, then having my daily call with darling uncle, then I am going to try and get back to sleep. Postman, darling father, phone calls and neighbours permitting.