It’s a good thing I’m not a fan of stylish contemporary furniture, which does not match well with the claws of an irritated tomcat.

You see, my boys are used to getting my full attention whenever they want it and I spent 10 hours in front of the laptop Saturday working on this sports project with my friend P.T. To say that the furry members of the family were as annoyed at my preoccupation as R. was . . . well, the magnitude of that understatement can scarce be expressed.

For openers, if a laptop is in my lap, a cat can’t be. Not that Mike didn’t try, you understand, but talk about urban over-crowding followed by a tragic breakdown in communications.

Basically, Mike and Andy don’t like to be spoken to in the negative. They see it as limiting their choices and self expression. A fact that became quite evident as the afternoon stretched on.

Finally when R. grumpily asked to go to bed at 7:30, Mike settled down in her chair and Andy positioned himself on the settee in the foyer where he could see me in my chair. It seemed that all was well until, when the evening drew to a close and I turned out the lights, the Master Plan of Revenge was instigated.

11:30 – Mike walks over me, considers left side to lie down, walks back over me to contemplate right side, repeats same and settles on left, feet toward me, claws extended, toes kneading my bare arm.

11:45 – Andy vaults on to the bed and drops a wet, spitty mouse in my face with the exclamation, “Let’s play!”

11:46 – Andy is ejected from the bed.

11:47 – Andy returns with larger, wetter, spittier mouse. “You like this one better?”

11:47.10 – Andy is ejected from the bed.

11:48 – Andy returns with wet, spitty, hairy foam ball.

11:48.02 – Andy is ejected from the bed.

11:49 – Mike decides the right side was better.

11:50 – Andy starts scratching in the litter box.

Midnight – Andy still scratching in the litter box. Gets a pillow thrown at him through the bathroom door.

12:01 – I am forced to retrieve my pillow and step in cat barf.

12:10 – Cat barf cleaned up and socks changed, I return to bed.

12:11 – Sit bolt up right in bed after Mike slams the bedroom door, a new trick he’s just learned.

Wash, rinse, and repeat this sequence of events with augmentations and improvements until 3 a.m. when they finally let me go to sleep.

The moral of this story.

Don’t ignore the cat. You will be punished.