I've already mentioned that I'm off the hook for shopping this year. That, in combination with our quickly progressing plan to move the studio cats downstairs, has caused us to decide that we are also keeping the holiday decor to a minimum. The reason? This guy:
Oh, he looks innocent now, but don't let him fool you. Dr. Jones is a one-man wrecking crew and there's no way we would trust him around a tippy fake tree adorned with tantalizing dangling objects.
(Your eyes don't deceive you about one thing: he's getting kind of fat. We need to readjust the food amounts we're making available.)
When Xena was a kitten, we made the same call at Christmastime. She was known for leaving destruction in her wake as well, so we skipped a year and waited for her to start behaving more like an adult before we took a chance on putting up the tree. (Don't believe what I wrote about putting the tree up in the studio. That never happened.)
So I think I'm going to content myself with some wreaths and garlands placed well out of Jones' reach and save the tree – and, literally, the ornaments – for next year.
There will still be cookies, though. Lots and lots of cookies.
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