“Spoon.”

Last night, I acquired a small spoon in the form of Cupcake. I was lying on my side, one arm tucked under my head, drifting off to sleep. Veritasium was playing on Youtube. 

A small wet point prodded my exposed elbow, and then, having ascertained the stability of the landing pad, a warm cloud descended sneeze-inducingly and painfully in a flurry of fur, tail and nails. 

“Spoon!” I thought excitedly. Cupcake doesn’t much like to be held, so I started by tentatively draping a few light fingers over her flank, which rose and fell with her breathing. Combined with the over-loud purring, it was a bit like sleeping with fluffy bellows. She didn’t throw my fingers off, so I followed with my entire hand.

We continued in this tenuous pseudo-spoon for a good five minutes. Then her little tummy growled, and she leapt up and wandered off to a less intrusive part of the bed, away from the large sad groping monster.

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