I contemplate sleeping in the cat litter box

I was wrong about the night ahead of me last night;  I didn’t even get four hours before the coughcoughcoughing turned to HOWLING and writhing and clambering and furious demands to be lifted and brought into my bed, and when I did it was all somersaults and headstands and general merriment.  Which I stupidly put up with for about two hours, thinking – not unreasonably, but totally misguidedly – she has to fall asleep at some point...  That point was at 345am when I put her back in her own cot, and lay myself down, as instructed, on the floor beside her.  (She graciously agreed to allowing me to use a yoga mat.)  And then I held her grubby little hand and absorbed her grubby little germs for the next three hours, at which point the new day dawned and the other children fell upon me, and my stiff immobile bones, demanding to know why I was sleeping with her and WHY DO YOU NEVER SLEEP WITH US etc. 

In cat-news: on the advice of people who know these things (or at least know more about cats than I do -  the sum total of which does not extend much beyond a general description of them), I bought some clumping kitty litter.   The cats LOVE it. They roll in it and scratch in it and leap about in it, and nap in it.   They don’t,  however,  seem to realise that they are rolling and scratching and leaping and napping in a toilet.  Here is Pumpkin, recently awoken from a nap (literally a cat nap, I suppose):

I have to say, it certainly looks more comfortable than a yoga mat.