"Mama! Mama!" she cried.
The digital clock in our bedroom read 4:45 a.m.
I hurried to The Rooster's room to quiet her so she didn't wake The Mayor.
"I want you," she said with arms outstretched.
I climbed into her tiny toddler bed and rubbed her back until she fell back to sleep.
When I heard her breath rise and fall in a steady rhythm I tried to sneak back to my own bed, but she called for me again.
She left me no choice but to squeeze in next to her on the bed's crib mattress.
I fought for my share of the covers and a comfortable position.
I somehow managed to fall asleep and stayed there until K came in and whispered that breakfast was ready.
I gently nudged The Rooster.
"Breakfast is ready, sweet girl. Time to get up," I said.
She flipped onto her side, threw me a squinty look and, from out of nowhere demanded,
"Breakfast in bed!"
Next she'll be asking for a cocktail umbrella in her sippy cup and cereal service on the lanai.
Oh, the DIVA