← Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
Sleep Tight Stories - Bedtime Stories for Kids
Margherita Is Libby's Best Friend 🍕(Pizza flavoured encore)
00:21:52
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- [00:09]
A
Hello friends, and welcome to Sleept Stories. Libby has been spending more time with her school friends recently and when she gets home, Margarita is nowhere to be found. Libby looks for her everywhere and finally finds her under her comforter on her bed. This is very strange. What could be going on? Margarita is Libby's best friend. Libby walked through the front door and immediately plopped onto the floor with a heavy sigh. She was tired. Not the kind of tired that came from missing sleep or running laps in gym class. This was friend tired. Since she and her mom had moved to this new town, Libby had started making more and more friends. At first it had been hard, really hard, because Libby was naturally quiet. She liked it that way. But eventually she had found a small group of friends and lately they had been spending a lot of time together, especially indoors since it was way too cold, at least for Libby to do much outside. Tonight she had been at Sarah's house working on an art project for school, and as much as she loved her friends, hanging out for hours left her completely drained. As she pulled off her winter boots, she called out, margarita, where are you? You usually come to greet me when I come home. Here, kitty kitty. I already ate, but we could still have a snack. Maybe some pizza snacks. Silence. Margarita didn't come. Libby frowned. Margarita always came running when there was even the slightest chance of pizza. Well, almost always. It had happened before, but not often. Oh, Margarita. Libby sighed, standing up. Oh, I hope you're not stuck in the recycling bin again. After putting away her boots and hanging up her coat, she started searching. Are you under the couch blanket? She asked, lifting the corner and peeking underneath. No, Margarita. She checked the kitchen. No Margarita. She checked the basement just in case. No Margarita. Libby was starting to worry now. She searched every usual hiding spot. The laundry pile, behind the bookshelf, inside the open cabinet where Margarita wasn't allowed to but often squeezed into anyway. No Margarita. She was getting really worried as she walked into her bedroom to set down her backpack and message her mom. But as she stepped inside, she noticed something unusual. A suspiciously large lump under her comforter. Libby pulled the covers back and found her best friend curled up in a tight little ball. Margarita. She gasped. What are you doing, you silly cat? You never sleep under the covers. You always sleep on top of the bed, not inside it. She scooped up Margarita, expecting her usual cuddle. But something was different. Margarita didn't purr. She didn't headbutt Libby's chin. She didn't even wiggle happily in her arms like she usually did. Instead, she let out a small, unimpressed rah. Libby blinked. What's wrong? You're not sick, are you? Margarita turned her head away. Libby gasped. Are you mad at me? Margarita flicked her tail. Libby sat down on the bed, still holding her grumpy orange cat. Okay, this is new. You're my bestest friend. We eat pizza together almost every day. You help me make art. You sit with me when I read, which is all the time when. And you're basically the only reason I get my homework done. Because you always help. Well, mostly by sitting on my books, but still. So what's wrong? She thought for a moment, stroking Margarita's fur. Then something clicked. Wait, is this because I haven't been home as much lately? Margarita flicked her ears but didn't look at her. Libby sighed. Oh Margarita, have you been lonely? This time the tail flick came with a slow blink. Libby gave her a big hug. I knew it. You're mad at me for being gone all the time. You missed me. Margarita let out another meh. This time softer. Libby grinned. Well, I missed you too, you silly cat. I know how I can make it up to you. How about some pizza snacks? Would you like some? Libby asked hopefully. Usually she wasn't allowed to bring food into her bedroom. Well, technically. But she did sneak in some snacks while studying, so the rule was kind of flexible. So you wait here while I go heat up your favorite flavor. Okay? She ran to the kitchen, warmed up the snacks and hurried back with her peace offering. Libby grinned, holding out a warm pizza snack like a treasure. Come on, Margarita, I know you can't resist pizza. She coaxed, giving it a little wiggle. But instead of her usual eager meow, Margarita flicked her tail with a dramatic swish and turned her head away, staring pointedly at the far wall. What? Margarita refusing pizza? This was worse than she thought. This wasn't just a little mood, this was a full blown protest. Okay, now I'm officially worried. Libby muttered, lowering the pizza snack. What kind of parallel universe have I walked into? She sat beside Margarita, studying her sulking cat. I don't think I've ever seen you upset before. You're always super happy. Super cool. The chillest cat I know. Margarita remained silent. Libby thought for a moment. I know. How about we play with your favorite toy? She grabbed the fuzzy motorized mouse from the shelf. You love how the tail wiggles. You always pounce on it and give it a great big hu. Libby set the toy down and it zipped across the floor, spinning in circles and wiggling its tail. This movement always caught Margarita's attention. Except today she didn't even glance at it. She just sat there staring at the wall like a cat shaped statue. Libby frowned. Okay, this is super serious. Next, she tried giving her more pets. That didn't work. She brushed her fur. No reaction. She even rubbed her tummy. But that didn't work either. Even rubbing under her chin, one of Margarita's favorite things only got a meh. Margarita finally jumped off the bed and padded out of the room. Libby followed, watching as her cat hopped onto the living room couch, curled up, and let out a long, dramatic sigh. Standing in the living room, Libby whispered to herself, maybe she doesn't miss me. Maybe she likes spending time alone now. Maybe she doesn't want to be my friend anymore. Some cats are like that, I think. Maybe she has changed. Libby sighed. Okay, Margarita, I get it. You're mad at me. So I guess I'll just leave you alone for a while. If you don't want to be my best friend anymore, then. Then I won't bother you. Saying those words felt wrong and Libby immediately regretted them. But was that really what she wanted? She looked over at Margarita again, hoping for some kind of reaction. Maybe an ear flick. Maybe a tiny meow of forgiveness. Nothing? Fine. If Margarita wanted space, Libby would give her space. She plopped onto the opposite end of the couch, crossed her arms, and stared dramatically at the ceiling. For the next 10 minutes, Libby pretended not to care. She hummed to herself, twiddled her thumbs, and even started tapping on her knees like a drum. But the truth was, she had never sat on this couch without Margarita curled up beside her. It felt wrong. She glanced over. Margarita was still facing away, sitting stiffly. Libby sighed loudly. Ugh. Margarita's ear twitched. Aha. Libby narrowed her eyes slightly. Was that an accident? Or was she listening? Testing her theory? She cleared her throat and muttered, it sure is weird sitting here all alone. Margarita's tail gave the tiniest flick. Libby pressed on, her voice even more dramatic. I guess I'll just have to find a new best friend. Maybe a stuffed animal. Maybe a pillow. Still no reaction. Libby groaned. Ugh. Okay, this is ridiculous. She missed Margarita a lot, and if she was honest, she felt a little guilty. Maybe she really had been spending too much time with her friends and not enough time with the one friend who was always there for her. Just as Libby was about to sigh dramatically for the millionth time, she heard the front door open. I'm home, her mother called. And I come bearing groceries, including a fresh pizza for our resident feline queen. I'm sorry I'm so late coming home this evening. Did you eat? How was your time at Sarah's house? Did you have fun? Her mother asked as she sat on a bench to remove her boots. Yeah, it was fine, libby replied. Well, that's not very reassuring. Her mother replied with concern. What's wrong? Did something happen at Sarah's house? Or did you not have enough to eat? I can heat up some food from last night. Or we could have some of the fresh pizza I bought. It was for Margarita, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind. Or since it's Friday, I could make a special snack and we could all watch some TV together. I think I am full, but the snack sounds like a good idea. I guess, libby mumbled. Libby's mother came into the living room and sat down beside Libby. Okay, so tell me what is really going on? And why is Margarita all the way over on the other side of the couch? She didn't even say hello when I walked into the living room, which she often does. It's usually just because she wants a snack, but she is curiously quiet. Libby groaned. Mom, something terrible is happening. Oh no. Libby pointed dramatically at Margarita. She's mad at me. Her mother gave a thoughtful nod. Oh dear. Want to tell me what happened? Libby slumped into the cushions. I don't know, Mom. Maybe I've been spending too much time with my friends and not enough time with Margarita. And now she's giving me the silent treatment. She won't even eat Pizza, Mom, Pizza. Her mom let out a small sigh. That is serious. Libby threw her hands in the air. I came home and she didn't greet me. I tried giving her snacks, pets, and belly rubs, but nothing worked. I think. I think she doesn't want to be my friend anymore. Her mother nodded knowingly. That's the tricky part about feelings, Libby. Sometimes when someone we care about is upset, we just want to fix it right away. But sometimes they just need a little time. Libby frowned. But what if giving her space just makes things worse? Her mother gave her a reassuring smile. It won't. It's like when you have a bad day. You don't always want to talk about it right away, right? Libby thought about that. Sometimes when she was upset, her mother would try to cheer her up immediately. But she didn't always want that. Sometimes she just needed a little time to feel better on her own. I guess that makes sense, libby admitted. The best thing you can do is let Margarita know you're still here when she's ready. And I have a feeling she will Be ready. Especially when she realizes there's fresh pizza waiting for her. Libby let out a small laugh. So you're saying I should just wait? Her mother smiled. Wait and trust that she still loves you. Even best friends need a little breathing room sometimes. Libby glanced over at Margarita, who was still facing the opposite direction but had stopped flicking her tail quite so dramatically. Her mother stood up and walked out of the room. I'm going to make us all a snack in the kitchen. Maybe after a bit of time it will be all better. Libby sighed. Okay, Mom. She hesitated, then turned toward Margarita. I get it now, she murmured, not even sure if she was talking to herself or Margarita. You just miss me, don't you? She heard a soft thump. When she turned her head, she saw Margarita hopping off the couch and padding toward her. Libby held her breath. Is this it? Is she going to forgive me? Margarita stopped right in front of her. Then, with all the dramatic flair of a cat who had clearly won this battle, she jumped directly onto Libby's lap. Libby grinned, relief washing over her. Oh, so now you want to be friends again? She teased, running a hand over Margarita's soft fur. Margarita let out a long, content purr, the last loudest she'd made in a long time. Libby chuckled, feeling lighter than she had all evening. I missed you too, you silly cat. Libby leaned back against the couch cushions, feeling the warmth of Margarita curled up in her lap. The tension from earlier was gone, replaced by something much better. You know, she murmured, scratching Margarita behind the ears. I spent all evening trying to fix things, but I should have just taken your approach. Margarita flicked an ear. Libby smirked. Next time I'll just dramatically flop onto the floor like you did. Works every time, huh? Her. Her mother walked in with a plate of snacks. I don't know what's funnier, watching you two make up or imagining you rolling onto the floor like a cat. Libby grinned. Hey, socializing is exhausting, Mom. I think I just need to nap, eat snacks and ignore my problems for a little while. You know, like Margarita does. Margarita let out a perfectly timed meh as if she approved of this life philosophy. Libby laughed, scooping up a snack. Best, best friend ever. Even if she is a little dramatic. Margarita purred in agreement, already drifting off for her well earned post forgiveness nap. And that is the end of our story. Good night. Sleep tight, Sam.