Last year, my sons brought a kitten into my house. He’s about eight months old now, and let’s just say he is not a snuggle cat. Pick him up? He cries like you’re assaulting him. Attempt to pet his face? He’ll try to bite your nose. Classic kitten chaos.
But recently… something magical happened. I got out of bed to pee, and he followed me into the bathroom. I sat down, and he started rubbing against my legs. I thought, “Wow, he actually wants me to pet him.” So I did. Then, in a move that shocked my entire soul, he put his paws on my knee like he wanted to be picked up. Pants down, of course, because timing is everything. I picked him up anyway. And then—brace yourself—he curled up into my lap (well, the bottom of my pajama top, not my actual naked lap, thank goodness) and snuggled in. I thought, great, now I have to sleep on the toilet tonight, don’t I?
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