My cats are incredibly spoiled

I was just looking at Briony, curled up on the bay window in the sun, using her stuffed-animal cat as a pillow. Of course by the time I got the camera, she'd moved. But here they are, lounging in glory during their early-mid-afternoon naps.
Briony

Gabe

So ... they are sooooo spoiled (how spoiled are they, you ask?): they have their own toilet. That's right - this past fall I bought them/myself a CatGenie. This thing is incredible. And Green! The washable cat litter is made from recycled plastic bottles. And you never have to change it! The litter gets washed and disinfected at every 'flush.' Watch the video if you don't believe me.
OK, so that gadget is about as much for me as it is for the cats. But how about this? At night, they sleep curled up to me. If I have to move, I carefully pull my legs up, turn over, and inch them back down without bothering their sleep - I do this in my sleep! Ah, they've trained me well.
When it's Snackie Time, Briony comes into my office, holds her tail up completely straight, waving the tip of it in salute, and meows. If I reach over to pet her, she runs just out of reach. If I get up, she starts making her way to her bowl, looking back to make sure I'm following her. She leads me right to it and waits patiently while I scoop her food into it. Or, in the morning, if she wants to go out for her ten-minute jaunt (where I watch her like a hawk - or hopefully better than a hawk!), she leads me to the front door. She knows I'm no dummy!

I don't mind being a slave to my cats. They're my kids!