How to make a cat fly.

If you spend several hours in the evening vomiting so hard you sound like you are possessed by demons, so hard that your child wakes up and comes out of her room dragging her entire bedding for comfort and your husband has to put her back to bed while you battle the dark adversary in the loo, then you finally fall asleep with your light on and your bucket beside you because you never know when your last vomit will be, and your husband sleeps at the foot of the bed because only a madman would sleep next to a vomit wife, and you are half awoken at 4 am by a gentle tinkling of bells by your pillow and in a millisecond you realise your cat is about to use your head as a launching off point to catch a moth up the wall attracted by your bedside light, and if, in that groggy split second, you swipe the cat and she goes flying across the bed, over your husbands feet, and wipes everything off your husband's bedside table so that he has to get up to pick up his clock radio, and the cat limps off grumpily, and you turn off your light and it takes you an hour to get back to sleep because you have a sore tummy and back where your muscles have had the unaccustomed work of emptying you out down to your toes, then it is really the cat's fault - not the vomit but the swipe.