Whose couch is it?

I have two love seats, rather than a full-sized couch, simply because these are the hand-me-downs life has given me. They're both pretty comfortable, so mostly I don't regret it (except when I'm trying to lie down with a cat on my lap and my knees are bending the wrong way). The love seats are fine.

I usually choose one of them over the other because you have to keep the remotes and the tissue box in one place, so pick one, right?

And one of the cats, of course, will often play a game of "took your warm spot" when I get up, so I return to find my seat has been taken.

Tonight I was sitting on the side my feet are usually on, because Harold was there first. I got up, and when I came back?

Sorry, mom, this couch is taken. You like the other one maybe?

Sigh. Maybe it's time for another nap. Or, I suppose, I could sit on the other love seat. After I move the remotes, the tissue box, and my knitting.

And find another blanket, since all the living room ones are under the cats.

Maybe I'll have dinner instead.