I admit that it took me until about 4pm yesterday before I got the courage to put up the Christmas tree.
I know, I know, I’m a total wuss. (My Dad told me yesterday that my kittens behaviour was a reflection of my poor parenting skills… needless to say that I said something about lack of role models and told him where to stick his so-called skills! Love you, Daddy. Mwahh!)
I was pleasantly surprised. There was some chewing that stopped after they realised the fake tree tasted like shite, there was some batting at the branches because hey, it was fun to watch the whole tree shake, but there was no climbing – thank fuck!
So this morning I decided I was willing to sacrifice some of the spare baubles and chains I had, which wouldn’t break if they did happen to ‘accidentally’ fall off the tree.
It was only a matter of seconds before the fun started…
“Tap, bat, pat, tap.”
Boris says “Nom, nom, nom, nom.”
I’m not even going to talk about present wrapping incident.
They’re feral with a total lack of Christmas-like behaviour. I am so ashamed. *sigh*