.... do not mix.
Not.
At.
All.
See the above ceramic Christmas tree?
Kind of pretty, isn't it?
Yeah .... I thought so.
That's why I purchased it a few years back.
But I digress .... as usual.
The kids and I got all of the Christmas decorations out on Thanksgiving evening.
This is one of those things that I used to really enjoy doing.
And it's one that I was always in charge of .... and mostly did by myself .... if the kids all managed to hide themselves the day after Thanksgiving.
Jim?
Never really a part of the decorating.
Unless it was to help get the tree down from the attic.
I think I managed to guilt him into helping decorate the tree a couple of times during the last few years.
Oh .... he usually was in charge of getting the lights on the tree.
Usually.
But then we discovered the joy of pre-lit trees.
Well, the joy that lasted the first year that you use one. The second year .... you get that sucker out and oddly enough .... there's usually a string, or several, of lights that somehow magically became "un-lit" over the spring, summer and fall.
Up in the attic.
All by itself.
But .... I digress again.
These last 4 years I have not been much into decorating.
This year was no different.
The thought of digging all of that stuff out, putting it up .... and then packing it all back away after only a month ..... combined with the knowledge that our family is not, nor ever will be, complete ..... usually tends to depress me.
And make me weepy.
So I've relied upon the kids to pitch in quite a bit these last 4 years. Or really, these last 3 years since you totally can't count the first year .... he'd only been dead a week by Christmas Day .... and we skipped Christmas that year by going on a cruise. Thankfully, my friends listened to me and came into our home and removed all traces of Christmas while we were gone. I didn't want one single reminder left when we returned.
Again .... digressing.
This year wasn't much different.
I was not in the Christmas-decorating mood.
But I did start to bring the boxes down. And then enlisted the help of my children.
We set them all in the garage.
The day before Thanksgiving I brought them all into the house and stashed them into the game room.
On Thanksgiving, after we had eaten and cleaned up most of the kitchen .... I started putting things away to make room for all of the Christmas stuff. I don't know about you, but there's almost as much pre-Christmas-decorating work involved as there is in the actual decorating itself.
Anyhow .... I made way for the decorations.
And then I told the kids that the rest was up to them.
If they wanted the house to be decorated .... they had better get to work. Because if they were going to leave it to me .... there would be no decorating this year.
I think they're getting a bit familiar with this line now.
So they got to work.
Sometime after the tryptophan-induced comas .... and the "Lady Gaga Thanksgiving" (I kid you not) they all went to work .... and got it knocked out.
They did a great job.
Which brings me to the point of this entire post.
Yes, I do have Adult-Onset ADD .... why do you ask?
Oh .... yes.
So ..... I went to bed Thanksgiving night, secure and content in the knowledge that the house was trimmed with the festivities of Christmas.
And then sometime around 3 or 4 in the morning .... as in a.m. ...... I heard a crash.
And thought ...... "Son of a .....".
I may or may have not finished that thought. I was in a dead sleep when I heard the crash. You know, the dead sleep from which you don't want to wake .... and you certainly don't want to get out of bed during. In fact, you just kind of dream off and on that you got out of bed .... but you really didn't.
I did not.
Until around 7:30 the next morning.
By then I had forgotten about the crash.
I walked into the family room on my way to the kitchen to start the coffee.
And this is what greeted me:
This is a table runner. A Christmas table runner.
It usually lies across a side table in my dining room (once we've decorated, that is).
Here's what it usually looks like:
Nothing outstanding, really.
Unless, of course, you're a cat.
And you're a bit mentally-deficient.
As most cats are.
And then all you can focus on is this:
And you don't notice .... or really give a flying flip .... that there's a ceramic lit Christmas tree sitting on the top of this runner.
Back to my morning ....
When I walked into the family room and noticed the afore-mentioned runner ..... I remembered the sound of the crash that had interrupted my sleep.
And thought, "Son of a .....".
I'm pretty sure I finished the thought that time.
I then slowly walked into the dining room .... knowing what I'd find.
The remnants of my ceramic pre-lit Christmas tree.
I.
Was.
Not.
Happy.
I picked up the above remnants, along with the table runner ..... and went to confront the culprit.
I didn't have far to look.
He was enjoying his morning frolicking-through-the-house .... until he saw me. And what was in my hands.
Say what you will .... but the mentally deficient cat .... is not so very stupid.
Because this is exactly how he looked when he saw what I was carrying:
Yep.
Head hung low, looking up at me while keeping his head down ... so that his eyes seemed to be peering at me through the top of his head.
Otherwise known, to all moms, as the "look-of-extreme-guilt".
Just like a child.
And just as guilty.
I stood and stared at him for a couple of minutes .... and then pushed my armload of remnants in front of me and asked, "Really.....?!"
Instead of answering .... or meeting my stare .... he took one step backwards.
I took one step forward.
And continued to stare at him accusingly.
He took another step backwards.
I took another one forwards.
This continued for a few steps .... until he backed into a wall.
I took one more moment to give him "the mom look" (you know the one) .... and managed to freeze him where he stood. Or rather, where he skulked.
And then I headed outside and threw away the remnants of my ceramic pre-lit Christmas tree.
Sigh ....
Cats and Christmas .....
The two C's ......
That will never .... ever .... go together.
I will refrain from telling you about the glass Christmas ornament that he knocked off of the tree less than 2 hours later.
Let's just suffice it to say .... he's living on borrowed time.
Happy Sunday, Peeps.
:)
