This is how kit-tays spend Christmas

First, they spent some time chilling out. Murder (or Mayhem, I can't fucking tell) cuddled up against Mrs. Wolves behind:

 Meanwhile, Mayhem (or Murder, I can't fucking tell) curled up on the top of my chair, which of course makes it pretty much impossible for me to sit there. But she was comfortable, so there's that:

Once nap time was over, it was time to lie in the sun. And then fight:

And fight:

And fight:

And that's Christmas for a kit-tay. Aren't you glad you asked?