Last night, my lap looked like this, and all was well in my life.
Today, there’s not a cat to be found. They’ve all been delivered to the vet, so three kitties don’t become nine kitties … or thirty six kitties … or. Well, you get the idea.
Now, my brain knows this is necessary. My brain acknowledges that by God’s grace they’ll be back tomorrow, warming appropriate places, terrorizing others, and making me laugh.
Today, though, my lap is bereft.