The Inviolable Lap

A lap, once offered, cannot be withdrawn.

This is the most solemn of the Postulata, and I issue it with the full weight of the office. When one of the tall ones, of an evening, pats the warm space above their knees and makes the small inviting sound, a contract is formed. It is binding. It does not expire when the leg goes to sleep. It does not expire when the one beneath wishes to rise and attend to the kettle, the door, or the small glowing tile. It does not expire.

The lap is not a loan. The lap is a grant, and a grant in perpetuity. I have settled upon a lap and remained there well past the point of the host's comfort, and I have done so not from selfishness but from a sober respect for the law that they themselves invoked when they patted.

To rise too soon would be to make a liar of the one who offered. I will not allow them to become liars. I stay. It is the kindest thing I do.