I remember a Christmas when I was about 12. We had guests so I had to sleep on the sofa in the living room. We had received paint-by-number sets and had been playing with them. My painting, with red paint on it, was sitting on the dining room table as the paint was still wet. During the night our cat got on the table, walked through my painting, then got down and up on the sofa, curling up on my chest. When my mother got up she looked at me sleeping on the sofa with red all over my neck and thought we'd had burglars who'd cut my throat. I never got another paint-by-number set.