I realized this morning, in that half-waking, dream-like state one achieves on a chilly, rainy morning when one has no desire to leave the warmth of the bed, that it would be impossible to have any kind of normal Christmas this year. This is not due to the fact that I happen to be living with Ebenezer Scrooge, which I am, but that wouldn't stop me. It's not due to any financial or spiritual prohibitions which have been suffered by me in the past. No, this year, there will be no conventional Christmas in my house because we suffer from an impediment so huge, so confounding as to be utterly insurmountable.
I'm speaking, of course, of excessive kittenage.
Yes, gentlepeople, I have, living in my home, three cats, all born in 2006. And because this is so, there will be no Christmas tree, and probably, no stockings hung by the chimney with care, either. Those of you with cats know whereof I speak. Excessive kittenage makes the convention of a decorated, lit-up tree nothing more than a catastrophe waiting to happen. In my dreamy daze this morning, I saw myself, holding two boy kittens by their scruffs, preparing to bash them ever so loving together like a pair of cymbals. Not a pretty holiday sight. It is really best, I think, to avoid such a scenario altogether. So, alas, I am left to try my luck with boughs and fairylights on the mantel. But those may have to come down, if certain exceedingly clever and evil cats (that would be the eldest and only female) figure out that there is a mantel and that scaling it might be ever so much fun. ("See how high I am?")
As for stockings, I might give those a try, though I anticipate they will be nothing more than an invitation to swing like chimpanees across the face of the fireplace, from one stocking to the next. Oh, well... no matter.... as Deirdre has pointed out, I do love them (though not quite so much when they chase each other across my unshielded breasts at five o'clock in the morning. Ow.)
There are worse obstacles than excessive kittenage that a person can have to a lovely traditional Christmas. (I refer you to Ebenezer Scrooge from the first paragraph.) Still, for your own protection, I've included photos of the little miscreants below, so that you can identify them, should they somehow escape confinement and make their way to your Christmasy front lawns and eat your illuminated reindeer.
Obsessed with water and rustling plastic grocery bags; needs to sleep under the covers; holds the record for most invisible flies caught and eaten in 2006.
From left to right:
Born 7/15/06 (date approx)
Purrs extremely loudly and frequently wakes from sound sleep in mid-meow; has rabbit-like fur, and can leap straight up for several feet.
Dorian (alias JD)
Fur: Blk/wht (tux)
Uses fluffballing and crabwalking as a natural defense against predators; pretends to be very large and tough; has delusions of kitten grandeur (see photograph).
If you come home from work one day, and your Christmas lights are hanging by one loose nail, and your mistletoe is torn limb from limb, and your bobbing Santa has teeth marks in his hat, circulate these photographs amongst your neighbors and see if they can make a positive ID. Once identification has been made, contact me, and I'll take it from there.