F.L.A.C. vs The Spirit of Christmas Present

Usually, by this time of the month our house is at least partially decorated. The tree may not go up until next week, but the crèche, the ceramic Santas, the carol-playing Christmas train, the various wreaths, candles and table ornaments and such should be out and on display. Not this year.

There is a glitch in our Christmas Plan. Three of them, actually.

The cats.

Bartleby, rest her soul, was never a problem with holiday decorations. True to her character, she preferred not to interact with, or even acknowledge, trees, lights, inflatables, statuary, really anything obviously temporary. Disdain was the order of the day.

The F.L.A.C.*, aka the Entropy Gang, are a different story.

Considering their willingness to sleep with zombies, steal pistachios to play floor hockey, race from one end of the house to the other at full speed leaping on and across chairs and tables and crashing into walls, wrestle each other to the ground rolling around before leaping straight up into the air, climb curtains and hang from screens, nest in the bookshelves, knock over trash cans, remap my computer keyboard, nest in the recycle bag, spread litter across the floor, and shred cardboard boxes before nesting in the wreckage, it's no wonder we're having nightmares about what they could do to a Christmas tree decorated with thousands of dollars worth of handmade European glass ornaments. They would look upon it as a challenge.

My brother has made several trips to the storage unit looking for any cheap, unbreakable ornaments he might have stashed away over the years and there are several boxes stacked up at the head of the driveway now, but we're still concerned about the tree itself. We just know there will be a contest to see which cat can climb the highest. Jasmine's too fat to win that one but she will compete and might bring the whole tree down.

It will be weird if we end up with no tree at all, but this year we may decorate in extreme minimalist style.

*Furry Little Agents of Chaos