There I was, locked into the game, fully concentrated, eyes glued to the screen, controller in hand, heart rate elevated like I was actually on the field myself. Every play mattered, every second felt intense. It was one of those moments where nothing else in the world should exist—except she didn’t seem to get that memo.
She wandered over without hesitation, climbing right onto my lap like she owned the place. I tried to adjust, thinking maybe she’d settle down quietly, but no chance. She nudged the controller, pawed at my hand, and looked up with those wide eyes like, “Excuse me? Pay attention to me, not this silly game.” I laughed out loud, because honestly, what else could I do?
The game was hanging by a thread, but she decided my hoodie strings were way more entertaining. One moment I was trying to hit the right buttons, the next I was wrestling to keep her from chewing on them. Every time I thought she was finally calming down, she’d make another move—tail flicking across the screen, or standing directly in front of me like a furry little referee.
At that point, I had two options: get frustrated and try to push her away, or accept that my “serious” gaming session had just turned into comedy hour. Obviously, I went with the second option. Because truthfully, as much as I wanted to win the game, I realized that these interruptions are what make the moments unforgettable. The game will always be there, but the memory of her completely ignoring my focus, demanding all the attention in the world, is way more valuable.
So yeah, I didn’t win that round. But I did win in the bigger picture—because nothing beats laughter, company, and a little chaos, even if it means losing the game. She doesn’t care about my focus, but I guess that’s part of why I wouldn’t trade her for anything. 😂
