Oh, how I remember all the good times. The times when I had it all to myself to do with as I pleased, when I pleased. Yes, I may have taken it for granted, but I never suspected for a minute it would ever be anything but my lap.

All those tasteless TV dinners it hosted, the best-selling books it cradled, the children and grandchildren it comforted. Not to mention, dare I say it, those cuddles with my sweet wife. Oh, they were heady days indeed.

Alas, those moments now founder as ancient memories, vanished like figments of a fantasy long since played out. Lo, there’s a new “sheriff” in Lapland and she’s taking prisoners.

Little did I know when I first fell for that cute little furry face, I would be giving up any semblance of independence when it came to the use of my lap. Since day one of what is now referred to as “the Bella era”, my lap has been nothing short of nap fodder. With nary a moment to call its own, my lap’s sole duty now is to provide the nesting place for a living, breathing plush toy.

Whether sitting down at the keyboard, getting ready to watch a TV show, starting a good read, or just settling in for a nap of my own, it will only be a matter of seconds before my lap will have an uninvited attachment. Any fleeting thought I have of disengagement quickly melts away with one sad look from that adoring face. The actual count may be one-on-one, but psychologically speaking, I’m vastly outnumbered.

So I’m left with this lament and little recourse. But it could be worse. She could be on someone else’s lap. I’d really hate that!