I read my daily Book Club this morning and thot how like my night it was.  So I'm going to share it with you, courtest of Susanne Beecher......

"Step right up! Lately there's been a 3-ring circus performing in my bedroom every night and unfortunately I've had a front row seat.  "For your entertainment pleasure, because who needs to sleep, right?
In the First Ring, we have an LED light show!" It seems that every
time I purchase a new piece of electronic equipment, the
manufacturer gives me a gift--LED lights that shine so brightly
every night I have to throw a washcloth over my DVD player, push a shoe up against the red on/off light on my flat screen television, and decorate my alarm clock with a T-shirt.

"In the Second Ring, we have cats!" Not tigers and lions, but noisy,  obnoxious every day cats. Abby thinks she's a human, so she insists on snuggling under the covers and putting her head next to mine on the pillow, which is fine, I'm used to sharing my pillow. But instead, last night she sat at the end of my bed grooming her paws, which then made the bell on her collar ding, ding, ding. As soon as  Abby's dinging quieted down, Rudy, my set-in-his-ways-18-year-old cat, started flicking the drawer handle (loudly) on the bathroom vanity announcing it was time for a 3 a.m., turkey and gravy snack.  When I didn't get up, he resorted to jumping over top of me--back and forth, back and forth--from one side of the bed to the other.

"And finally, in the Third and Center Ring, my dear snoring
husband!" Sneezing and wheezing all day long from a cold, his nose was stuffed up, which meant soon after he fell asleep he started snoring--which stopped when I rolled him over. But eventually he rolled onto his back again, so I had to repeat the routine--four different times during the night.

After the fourth rollover I decided I might as well get up, get a
drink of water and sit for a few minutes. But my activity alerted
the cats--who thought since I was up it must be morning and "It's
time to eat!" Each kitty lined up next to their dish, wondering why I wasn't serving breakfast. I tried to ignore them, but then the outdoor cats (the ones my husband and I take care of) heard the commotion, jumped up on the window sill and stared, "Where's the fish?"

LED lights, cats, and a snoring husband. Yes, there's a 3-ring
circus going on in my bedroom (tickets still available for tonight's
performance), but tonight this ringmaster is sleeping in the guest
room.

Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends. Suzanne Beecher