Reversion to the Mean, Or: Coal For the Kitties

Now, this is more like it.

I came home Saturday to surprise Paribanour in the Christmas tree. Technically, leaping from the Christmas tree, about a third of the way up. There were four ornaments on the rug, none of them broken. I reattached them and we stopped the tree from turning in hopes that would lessen the cats' curiosity.

My brother reported that after he had kicked Mittens out of his room for some infraction he went into the living room to check up on the F.L.A.C. and noticed under the tree one penguin, a lump in the tree skirt, then another penguin. Mittens had crawled under the skirt. He also had to reattach a number of ornaments from a previous incident.

After I took away their lizard last night (I don't know where they found it. Jasmine and Paribanour were staring intently barely a nose-length away while Mittens played with it on the rug. I was surprised to find it was still alive and put it outside.), they all became agitated and, frankly, a little pissy and I had to keep chasing them away from the tree until they finally all curled up together on the kitchen table.

This morning, there is a branch bent down to the floor, one of the lower ones with no ornaments but strung with lights, and no one is admitting to anything. The skirt is all scrunched up around the trunk.

My brother has packed up the trains and track. Even he admits there are limits and is not willing to tempt Fate further. Instead, he spent the afternoon putting out Santa, snowman and penguin inflatables on the lawn and lights on the house and fence.