Blogmas: Tannenbaum Part Deux

We bought more lights and finished decorating the tree a couple days ago. When purchasing the original lights, we found that Target had some simple stockings that would work really well for our needs, our needs being he and I both needed one, and of course all three of our cats need their own as well.

I haven’t really talked about the cats much on this blog which is an actual disservice to you, Dear Reader, as they really are the three true Christmas gifts. Perhaps I will rename them Gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh.

For almost eight years, Husband and I just had two cats, brothers from the same litter. My friend who had the cats (well, whose cat had the cats–if it were her, you would have seen that on the news) already picked out one of the kittens, a tiny tuxedo, from the litter for us which might sound weird, but it was actually perfect. They were young, but they had personalities and she knew this one kitten NEEDED to live with me. She was right. The other kitten was up to Husband. He was trying to choose between two with almost identical tabby markings, and it was a whole ordeal. He hand-weighed them (they were the same), he tried to get them to come to him (they just ran into each other), he cuddled each in turn to see which felt right (that was just adorable). I am very surprised we didn’t end up with both of them, but he eventually picked one and that cat has been grateful to him, and only him, ever since. We’ve had them almost the entirety of our relationship, and when we made our wedding invitations, they were signed “by” the cats. So, you see, they are important.

Two cats were enough, but then a couple months ago Husband and I were out walking along the river, and the thing I have been preparing for my whole life happened. It was right after Hurricane Harvey which only caused a pretty bad storm here in our part of Florida. From somewhere near us, we heard a mew. Well, not a mew so much as a screeching. “Is that a kitten?” I asked Husband, suddenly on high alert, my ovaries taking over: Mom Mode activated! “It’s a bird,” he tried to assure me to no avail, and I started lifting up the fallen palm fronds on the river’s bank until I found a soaked, shivering, itty bitty ball of black fur. Obviously he has lived with us ever since.

So they have stockings as well, hung above the fireplace with care and command strips. (Oh, idea for…not a band name, but for the Christmas album of the imaginary band.)

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A better order would have been “BRAAD” or RABAD” but it is what it is.

And I guess you may as well meet the cats too:

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Left: Diocletian, Top Right: Bartholomew, Bottom Right: Rutherford

I got some remote activated, flame-less LED candles to put in our non-working fireplace, but I need SO MANY batteries for them and I have none, so that will have to wait. I’m just missing something for the wall itself above everything as the painting that was there is now above the couch. Probably a wreath which I’ll DIY this weekend. (Ah, ghosts of Christmas blogs yet to be!)

So the balls and stars (another band name!) are on the tree as well as a very small handful of personal ornaments. It’s missing a topper (man, getting this Christmas thing together is hard!) but so far so good.

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My mom sent us Spiderman and Ariel. Actually, she sent us most of these.

Now please enjoy this video of Cher being a fucking badass just by existing:

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Questions Only A Cat Can Answer

Why are you so obsessed with the toilet?

Even after the great plunge of two ought seventeen, you still insist on challenging a one-handed me to keep you at bay.

How can you differentiate the toilet from, say, the couch? Both are sat upon, both are read upon. How do you know this seat is special?

Why do you want to lick the edge of the toilet bowl? Just…why?

Do you think that you pitiful whining when the seat cover goes down will actually change my mind? Oh, of course, kitten, let me just leave this up for you. That’s a great idea.

Why don’t you have enough self preservation to NOT jump onto a surface that is sometimes actually a hole?

How is the sound of a urine stream so mesmerizing?

Where do you think the hole goes? Are you convinced we’re keeping something from you? A magical fun-time world that is, for some reason, at the end of tiny tube filled with water that makes horrifying noises?

Is this obsession going to end? Should I enroll you in some sort of 12 step program?

Kitten, are you okay?