Don't take away my kitty

Last night everyone was coming into the bedroom for a good night of Zs. The entire family sleeps in one room. Steve and Suzi have their own beds, and the cats share our bed. It is a very hair filled room, very little of which comes from Jeremy or me.

Vernie was on the bed acting adorable and I came over to give her some scratches. She was quite pleased and gave me the squinty I-love-you-so-much-mom face. She purred and made tiny little happy sounds.

Then I picked up my book I had set down next to her. I picked it up and managed to drop it on Vern's face.

"Oh no, Vernie!" I said.

She ran out of the room and under the guest bed. I went in to try and make her feel better. She saw me and moved to the other side of the bed. I went to the other side, and she escaped into the dining room. Hiding under the table she wouldn't even look at me. I managed to pet her head for a minute and then she ran into the living room to hide behind the couch. I went behind the couch and she went under the coffee table. Finally I managed to pick her up, and she remained in brick form. No purrs, no claws in my back to keep her from falling off. No, she simply remained stiff and mad.

I finally gave up. About 15 minutes later she decided to forgive me and came back to bed. I was reading the drop-on-Vern's-head book, but she didn't mind. She came over, and I moved the book to make room. Except when I moved the book I managed to take out one of her legs.

I am a horrible mother.