Help, I'm being held hostage

So I'm sitting here, perched like a bird on our kitchen stepstool, aimlessly surfing the web on the laptop computer I keep in the kitchen. Ginger decides that the platform underneath the stepstool would be the perfect spot for a nap:



Now I'm trapped. If I get up to do something else, she'll wake up, and it's against my religion to wake a sleeping baby of ANY species. Perhaps somebody could please at least bring me a snack?