recipe for disaster, holiday edition

We got a Christmas tree on Sunday, it involved hours of procrastination, shopping for a tree skirt, lengthy discussions of whether a "tree bag" was necessary, purchase of a tree bag, stops at three different tree lots and an embarrassing sappy handed entrance onto an elevator in our building. All of that was followed by bickering about the tree bag, tearing of the tree bag, disposal of the tree bag and finally getting the tree to stand up straight. I think the main problem is that we're out of practice; we usually don't get a tree because we're always 3000 miles away from home on Christmas. The last time we had a tree was in 2001 and I don't remember it being as irritating as it was on Sunday, although I am starting to recall some unpleasant memories having to do with a tree bag. We also lived in a very small apartment and were broke in 2001, so I'm sure the tree we were dealing with was of the Charlie Brown variety, but I've decided to remember it as a 12 foot beauty with dazzling lights and sparkly, magical ornaments. Good thing I didn't own a camera then.

The most difficult thing about having a tree this year (besides getting it in the stand) is that we have a kitten. When we first brought the tree home Ollie was not very fond of it, as a matter of fact he was downright scared of it. I knew it was too good to be true and the fear wouldn't last - this is the same cat who has chewed through wires, pulled a heavy wool rug around the entire apartment and left a mark while trying to attach himself to the floor lamp shade which is 4 feet off the ground. As the hours passed last night, I watched Ollie's fear of the tree fade as he attempted to devour a whole branch and then drag the tree skirt around the living room. The good news is that he hasn't tried to climb the tree, but then again we haven't put the lights on yet.