Cat Naps

Last night, as I sat reading in bed, our little boy settled in for a nap. He’d made a nest in the duvet and was snuggled against my thigh. Yes, wicked cozy. I’m sure you can imagine my quandary though. As I finished the chapter I was on, contemplated shutting off the light, burrowing down under the covers and hooking up with my old bud Hypnos—how could I do this without disturbing Cake’s sleep?

I managed to turn the my reading lamp off and scooch farther down under the covers without waking him. Yea me. There’d be no rolling onto my side and fetal positioning though—not if I wanted to maintain the toasty snuggly thing he and I had goin’ on.

What to do? What to do? 

I laid on my back, mostly reclining, waiting for NREM Stage 1 to descend. It didn’t. No surprise there—sleeping on my back is not one of my talents. Luckily, our little angel butt’s an active sleeper. He rolls around, kicks and, pretty sure, declaims Shakespeare’s soliloquies (I *think* it’s Shakespeare. Could’ve been epic poems by Lao Tzu. Deaf here and it’s hard to read cat lips in the dark…so, not sure).

Eventually, his Royal Cakeness rolled over enough so’s I could fetal up. I did and managed to drift into the Land of Nod. Yea me.

Do people who aren’t afflicted with cat doormathood (AKA empathy for other living creatures) sleep well? Do they fall into deep slumbers as soon as their heads connect with pillows? Are they able to lay flat, roll over, stretch out and curl up without the fear of crushing or otherwise disturbing their furry friends? I hear tell there are folks who don’t allow their guardian beasties, their fellow sentients into the bedroom at all (let alone onto the recumbent throne of nocturnal abandon).

I’m tellin’ you, that’s just fucking heartless!