← Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
Margherita And The Skateboard 🍕
00:25:00
Our pizza loving cat is back with this favourite bedtime story for kids
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Hello friends. Before we begin, there's a quick ad and then we'll get right to the story. Hello friends and welcome to sleept Stories. Each week we share a few shout outs and birthday wishes for listeners who help support the show. It's a small way we say thank you and it always makes us smile. Happy belated birthday to Sarah in the US on June 27th. Happy birthday to Riva from Seattle who turned 6 on July 5th. Mommy, Daddy, Niam, Moka and all your stuffies love you to the moon and back. Happy 8th birthday to Vega on July 7th. Your daddy loves you and is proud of you for conquering more and more fears every year. You're braver than you think. Happy Birthday kiddo. Happy Birthday to our one and only Waverly. Our loving daughter and sister and an inspiring force for good. Here's a kissing hand to tell you we love you more than the stars in the sky. Love Mom, Dad, Lola, Oreo and Lily. Happy 9th birthday to our kind hearted, hard working and thoughtful Teddy. Your smile lights up every room and we love how you care for others. You're such an important part of our family. We can't wait to see where this next year takes you. Love Mama, Dada and Sam. Happy 5th birthday to Aidan in Queensland, Australia. Mom, Mummy loves listening to podcasts with you every night. You are such a smart and funny kid. Keep up your love of black holes, science and nature. You are the best bug professional. Mommy, Daddy and your whole family love you so much. Happy 9th birthday Bridger in Camden, Maine. You are kind, strong, funny and thoughtful. It makes us so proud to watch you grow into such a wonderful person. Love you always. From mom, dad and Gracie. Happy 9th birthday Maren. We are so lucky to have you in our lives. You make us proud every day. Love Mom, Dad, June, Walter and Coconut. Happy Birthday to Mary Collins. You are a kind, creative, nature loving adventure girl. We are so proud of who you are and we love you Fairy Mary, Mom, Dad, Eleanor, Frank and Elsa. Happy 8th birthday to Ozzy, Oztimus Prime, Ozzy, Tomahawk. Your daddy loves you so much. Sleep tight buddy. And Happy first birthday to Sid. We all love you so much. You make our lives so much better with your infectious laugh. Love your brother Ari, Mommy and Papa. Happy Birthday to you all. Every time we sit down to record we think about you tucked in ready for a story. Knowing we get to be part of your bedtime means everything to us. If you'd like to support the show and enjoy ad free episodes and bonus stories, Sleeptype Premium is in the show notes and if you know a little someone with a birthday coming up, shout out details are there too. Now on to our story. Summer is here and boy is it hot. Libby wakes up to the sunlight hitting her right in the face and tries to cover her head with her pillow and realizes it is all wet. She wonders if there was rain in the house the night before and her mother tells her the AC must have turned off during the night. Margarita comes in to see and decides she is not going to stay in Libby's room. It is way too warm. Margarita and the skateboard Libby woke up to a beam of sunlight hitting her right in the face. She tried burying her head under her pillow, which usually bought her a few extra minutes during the school year, but her pillow was soaking wet, her throat fell dry and her whole body felt sticky. She opened one eye, then the other. No leaky roof, no sign that Margarita had done anything suspicious in the night. Just heat. Lots of it. I have to leave for work, Libby, her mother stuck her head in the door. I let you sleep in a bit, but I need you up before I go, okay? Mrs. Jenkins will be by later to check in and she mentioned something about special sandwiches for lunch. Libby groaned. She didn't mind being alone for a couple of days. She just minded waking up feeling like a wet sock that someone had already stepped in. Did it rain inside the house last night? She said. Her mother came into the room and looked at her. I think the AC turned off in the middle of the night. You were probably wrapped up in your blanket again. She said it in the way that meant I have told you about the blanket. A shower will fix you up. As her mother left, Margarita came padding into the room and gave Libby a long look, the kind that meant she was doing a full, full assessment. Good morning, libby said. Yes, I know I'm disgusting. The AC turned off during literally the hottest week ever and I sleep in a blanket like a normal person and now I'm soaked. She pushed her hair off her face. Margarita started toward the bed, then seemed to reconsider and walked back out. Fair enough, libby said. I should be home early and I plan on bringing home something for dinner. Something you both would like, her mother said as she checked to make sure Libby was getting up. Libby knew what that meant. Margherita pizza. Be good and don't forget that Mrs. Jenkins will be coming by, libby's mother said as she raced out the door. Libby got changed, went to the kitchen and shook a box of cereal her mom had left out cut fruit and yogurt and a little bowl of nuts, which was very nice and also not what Libby wanted right now. She poured the cereal. The sound of the box brought Margarita in immediately. She sat by her bowl and looked up. You didn't want to be near me five minutes ago, libby said. Now suddenly we're friends again. Margarita sat by her bowl and waited. Libby heated the pizza snacks and dropped them in, then sat down with her cereal. Okay, so it's just us today. She took a spoonful. I've got art camp in a couple of days, but until then you're kind of stuck with me. I could have gone to the camp my friends went to, but bugs, Margarita. Like, I get that bugs are important or whatever. I just don't want them eating me. She thought about it for a second. Do mosquitoes even bite orange cats? Like, does the fur help? Margarita ate her pizza snacks and did not answer. Can you imagine being outside right now doing sports? I was just lying in bed and I got sweaty. I wasn't even doing anything. After her shower, Libby came out to the living room feeling more like a person. Margarita had claimed her new favorite spot by the front window that looked out to the garden, making her chirpy bird sounds at whatever was happening outside. She did this every morning. It never worked. The birds ignored her completely, which didn't seem to bother Margarita at all. I'm going to paint in my room this morning, libby said. It's probably cooler in there. You can come if you want. Margarita looked at Libby, then at the window, then back at Libby. The look on her face seemed like she was making a decision. I'll be in my room when you decide. She set up her canvas, got her paints sorted, and checked that the AC was actually running this time. She thought about going outside to paint the flowers in the back garden, but not today. Not in this heat. She'd work on the painting she started in art class instead. She was just getting into it when she heard the soft thud of Margarita jumping off the window ledge and then the padding of feet down the hall. Margarita came in, jumped up on the bed, said, meh. And closed her eyes. I'm glad you're here, libby said. Even if you're asleep. She painted for a couple of hours and was almost done when the doorbell rang. It was Mrs. Jenkins from next door, carrying a plate covered in plastic wrap. How are you surviving this heat? Mrs. Jenkins asked. She was wearing a sun hat even though she'd only walked across the garden. Pretty good, I think. I've been painting all morning. Good girl. Mrs. Jenkins held out the plate. Now I made you some sandwiches. Don't argue. Your mom has sent over so many nice things these past months, it's the least I can do. After Mrs. Jenkins left, Libby put the sandwiches in the fridge for later and went back to her room. She looked at her painting. She'd done pretty much everything she could do to it for now. She put her headphones on and picked up her book. Which was the plan, except the AC started making a sound. Not a loud sound, just a kind of tired whooshing sound, like it was out of breath or something. She turned a page. The the whooshing kept going. The room felt warmer than it had this morning. She took her headphones off and looked at the AC unit. It was still running, technically, but the air coming out of it felt less like cold air and more like regular air that passed through something cold a while ago and hadn't really recovered. Margarita was still on the bed in roughly the same position she'd been in all morning, which didn't seem fair at all. I'm going to find the fan, libby said. Margarita opened one eye. The box fan from the closet. Don't give me that look. She didn't expect the fan to do more than maybe move the air around in a circle, but it was better than nothing. Libby was pretty sure it was in her closet somewhere behind everything else. She slid the closet door open and stood looking at the situation. It was not a great situation. There were shoes and a bag and some rolled up art posters and a box of winter stuff that was supposed to go to the basement. At some point she started moving things out onto the floor. The bag, the box, a pair of boots she'd forgotten about. She found the art posters, which she should probably actually hang up at some point. She found a single mitten, a mixtape an old friend gave her that she couldn't listen to because it was ancient technology. She did not find the fan, but behind the box of winter stuff pushed all the way to the back corner where the closet got narrow, she found her skateboard. She pulled it out and stood there. Holding was the same one, the one with the scratched up deck and the slightly wobbly left wheel she'd never got round to fixing, there were stickers on the bottom from two different schools ago, a strawberry, a rocket one that just said wow in big yellow letters that she didn't remember putting there. She had gone through three or four sticker generations since then. She set it down on the floor and rolled it forward with her foot. It went a little crooked because of the wheel. Huh? She said to no one. Margarita appeared at the closet door and looked at the skateboard. Then she walked toward it, slowly, the way she approached. Anything new? Like it might be planning something. She sniffed the front wheels, then the back wheels, Then she walked around the whole thing in a circle. It's a skateboard, libby said. I used to ride it outside when it wasn't a billion degrees. Margarita sniffed the wow sticker. I don't know what that one's about either. Then Margarita stepped onto the board with her two front paws, decided that was fine, and stepped fully on with all four. She sat down. The board rolled about two inches to the left. Margarita did not get off. She rode the board those two inches like she had planned the whole thing. Then she looked up at Libby with an expression that seemed to suggest she had been skateboarding her entire life and couldn't understand why everyone didn't do this. Libby stared at her. Margarita stared back. Then she shifted her weight, just slightly, and the board rolled again, not two inches this time, more like six. Margarita looked down at her paws, then back at Libby. Then she shifted again. The board rolled across the room and bumped softly into the wall. Margarita sat very still on the stopped board, front paws together, looking back at Libby from across the room like she was waiting for a score. Libby already had her phone out. She'd hit record as soon. As soon as she started moving. She watched it back. 12 seconds of margarita rolling across her bedroom floor on a skateboard, arriving at the wall and then just sitting there, dignified, the wow sticker visible the whole time. She opened the group chat and sent it without a caption. Nothing for a second. Then Maya typed Wait in all capitals. Then Priya sent about six emojis in a row. Then Dev, who basically never texted first, sent, Is she for sale? And Libby laughed out loud in her empty room. Her name is Margarita, she typed back. Like the pizza. Exactly like the pizza. Does she eat pizza? Dev asked. Only pizza. A pause. Then Dev sent back, that is the greatest cat I have ever seen in my life. And Priya agreed, and Maya said she was showing her camp counselor right now. And then it got loud, the way group chats got loud messages coming in before she'd even finished reading the last one. Margarita stepped off the skateboard, did one long slow stretch, and walked out of the room. Done. Libby sat down on the floor with her back against the bed, phone in her lap, still smiling a bit. The AC had stopped its whooshing sound while she wasn't paying attention and the air coming out actually felt cold again for the first time all afternoon. Maya sent a photo back. Blurry. Eight kids crammed together in a cabin doorway, everyone making faces. Dev sent one of a dock somewhere, a lake going all the way back to the trees. Priya was on a beach, squinting hard into the sun. Libby looked around her room. Her painting on the easel, the pile of closet stuff she hadn't put back yet, the skateboard sitting at a slight angle where Margarita had left it. She took a photo of her room, just the room with the skateboard in the corner of the frame, and sent it cozy. Maya wrote back immediately. Come to camp next year, dev said. Libby thought about it for a second. Bugs. Heat. Sleeping in a cabin with seven other people. Maybe, she typed. Her mom came home around six, same as always. Keys in the bowl by the door. Libby in here. She was on the floor of her room, back against the bed, sketchbook open. She'd been drawing Margarita on the skateboard from memory, which was harder than she expected because Margarita's face was difficult to get right. The dignified but clueless thing was specific. Her mom appeared in the doorway, still in her work jacket, and then looked at the pile of closet style stuff on the floor and then at the skateboard leaning against the wall. Find what you were looking for? I was looking for the fan, libby said. I didn't find it. Her mom nodded at the skateboard. But you found that. Margarita sat on it. I took a photo, dev said. She was the greatest cat he'd ever seen in his entire life. Her mom smiled. Dev's right. She looked at the drawing. That's good. The face is hard. Her mom disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later came the sounds Libby knew without thinking about them. Fridge opening, bags rustling, the specific sound of a pizza box. Margarita was off the bed and out the door before the box was even open. Libby closed her sketchbook and followed. They ate at the kitchen table, the three of them in their usual positions, her mom at the end, Libby on the side, Margarita on the floor next to her bowl, working through a slice with total concentration. How was the day? Her mom asked. Libby thought about it. The sweaty morning, the painting, Mrs. Jenkins and her sandwiches. The closet and the skateboard and Margarita sitting on it like she owned it, the group chat going loud for 20 minutes and then settling back down into something comfortable. Pretty good, she said. Her mom nodded, like that was a complete answer. Margarita finished her pizza, drank noisily from her water bowl, and walked out of the kitchen, back to the window, probably, or the bed, or somewhere else she decided was important. Libby took another slice. The light was almost gone. Tomorrow would probably be just as hot, and her friends would still be away, and she still hadn't found the fan, but the skateboard was leaning against her wall instead of sitting in the back of the closet, and she had a pretty good drawing of a cat on a skateboard that she wasn't done with yet. And that is the end of our story. Good night. Sleep tight, Sa.