Our foster kitty is restless.
We have given him the premium spot (our bedroom) so that he may feel comfy for the night.
I am guessing he is - but we are not.
He rolls around and purrs loudly and massages us with his paws and crawls under the cover and nuzzles our necks.
Hour after hour passes and I know that neither Chris nor I is getting much rest.
Finally, at 5, Chris gets up. He is going to finish the night downstairs.
He tells me, sleepily: "I thought I was about to get back to sleep but then he stepped in my mouth."
So, for the past 5 hours, every time I think of his departing words, I get the giggles.