I woke up this morning to find both Ben and Angus curled up against me.
When I made the mistake of demonstrating some sign of life, Angus sat up, put his paws on my shoulder and began kneading while purring thunderously. Ben, not to be outdone, got up from his spot on my legs and walked up onto my chest. He took my strangled noises as a sign of affection and laid down with his paws on my collarbone, also purring.
"Thanks, guys," I said. "I kinda have to pee, you know."
Kevin, who is currently between contracts and thus at home, rolled over, glommed onto my free shoulder, and said "Purr."
"I love you all," I said, "but seriously, guys, I have to pee."
This plea might have moved Kevin, but not the cats. Fortunately, Angus decided to move around behind Ben and attack his tail–Angus is the only being that can attack Ben without dire repercussions–and in the resulting chaos, I was able to slip out to the bathroom.
There are worse ways to wake up.
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