First, twidgety is a word. It’s a combination of “twitch” and “fidgety” because I said so.
I moved my foot a quarter inch, and he literally jumped about four feet in the air from a dead sleep, taking out all the various knick-knacks near him in the process. After that, he chased his tail, caught it, and seemed to interrogate it as to whether or not it was the cause of the great startling. Next, he attacked a pile of folded socks until they, I assumed, begged for mercy. Unsatisfied, now he’s staring at me like this:
I think he’s pissed and wants answers. I’m pretty sure he’s saying, “I will barf on something you love” with this look.
In summary, I think he’s a cokehead.
JUST SAY NO, KITTY!