The cat is insane. The proof is in the pudding:
I was sitting on the toilet flipping through a magazine. My sweats and undies were around my knees. The door was ajar as usual (cats go insane when there is a closed door between s/he and her/his human). Oliver meandered in to see what I was up to (I'm doing what I usually do in the washroom, silly cat). He decided that my sweats looked like a good hiding place and proceeded to climb in. Oliver got all the way in and gazed up at me as I looked down at him. He then settled in as if it were nap time.
Insane, I tell you.