Doesn't that sound like a film Ang Lee needs to direct?

It appears that the kitten is not satisfied with the catbana in the living room for his nighttime sleeps. The cushy catbed is now reserved for moments requiring quiet when there is no chance that meat will be served (i.e., dinnertime has passed or the humans have left the building).

So Zaphod now rests at the end of the master bed and patrols my feet to practise his ninja-kitty moves. When that stops being fun (usually with a quick spray of water from my weapon of cat's distraction), he'll crawl up to rest between the snoring DH and I. And start to purr.

Now earplugs have been part of my life ever since the DH and I shacked up. If you live within a 50-mile radius of Casa Staring, you know why. Of course, this is when I have to admit that I'm a snorer too, but I think my snoring habit was developed as an act of self-defence so that I could hear something -- anything -- else besides the six degrees of bedside log sawing.

But now there's a nice purring rumbling across the bedsheets. And it's hard to hear because the DH is too darn loud.

Zaphod, like a true kitten after my own heart, also realized my dilemma and tried to put a stop to the horrible noise coming from the other side of the bed: he pounced on the DH's nose.

With a shout, DH sat up, flipped on the light and reached for the spray bottle.

In an Oscar-worthy performance, Zaphod and I pretended we were fast asleep. I even faked a slumberish murmur as the kitten continued to purr. The DH, after realizing that stitches wouldn't be required on his beaten-up face, skulked off to the spare bedroom in search of an undisturbed sleep.

The kitten and I gave each other a high-five and moved to the centre of the bed.

Then he bit me too -- but not that hard. ;)

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