How I Ruined Christmas…

Ooh, boy. It was a busy weekend. AGAIN. How does this keep happening? I’m planning to sleep for a solid day during Thanksgiving break to make up for all this shopping, and walking around, and talking to people. It’s exhausting!

One of our tasks yesterday was to get some Christmas shopping done. The good news is that we managed to avoid the trap of “going shopping for someone else and ending up buying everything for yourself.” The bad news is that somehow we ended up buying more presents for the cats than for the humans on our list. D’oh! Specifically, the spoiled felines will be the recipients of a clear plastic stocking full of cat toys from Petsmart. Our main reason for this purchase is that the smaller, more neurotic cat has a favorite toy — a beat-up, ugly, purple blob that once resembled a toy mouse — which is currently missing. She likes to bat it under things, and I have taken a yard stick to the underside of every piece of furniture and appliance in this apartment…”purple mouse” is nowhere to be found.

In that stocking full of toys is a mouse that is the closest replica to “purple mouse” that we’ve ever seen. In the event that we’re unable to EVER find her favorite toy, we’re hoping that she’ll accept the substitute. We’re about to make her change residences again, and goodness knows she handles that poorly enough WITH her beloved toy.

So, we’re walking to the apartment after shopping and the following conversation occurs:

Scott — Now, be sure to hide their toys so they don’t see!

Me — Haha.

Scott — No, really! You don’t want to ruin Christmas!

Me — There’s no catnip in these. They’re never going to know.

So we come inside and I carry the bags into the office/guest bedroom/gift wrapping central (gotta love apartment living!). I take the few human presents out of the bag and line them up on the sofa. Miraculously, there’s a tube of Christmas wrapping paper within easy reach in the CLOSET OF DOOM…aka, the closet with all the boxes that I didn’t feel safe putting into non climate controlled storage. The empty shoe and gift boxes that I save to wrap presents, and which would have been carefully organized with the tissue paper and gift tags in our house, however, might as well have been sucked into a black hole. There’s no way I can rummage through the CLOSET OF DOOM to find them. I stare despondently into the abyss, willing the boxes to appear. Then I look at Scott, who’s sitting at the computer. I open my mouth to request his assistance and then…ah, forget it. I’m exhausted.

I abandon the project, leaving the human presents on the sofa and the cat presents tucked away in the corner inside the sealed plastic “stocking” inside the bag. I stumble out to the living room/dining room/napping area and flop myself into my favorite chair. Approximately one minute and thirty seconds have passed since the plastic bag containing the cat toys hit the ground. And then, I hear…



*crinkle jingle jingle jingle jingle…*

Scott — Megan, you’d better get in here.

And this is what I found:

So much for Christmas...

She found the toys inside the bag inside the bag. Clearly, I underestimated her. I am, however, leaving the toys in the bag (in the bag), because I know cats enough to know that she’s enjoying trying to get them out of their plastic prison(s) more than she’ll actually enjoy playing with them.

And that’s the story of how I ruined Christmas. I really need to wrap the presents on the sofa before someone stops by unexpectedly and I further ruin the holiday. Does anyone have any boxes I can borrow? Or wants to wrap presents for me?


One response

  1. I’m the worst wrapper of all time. I’m no help to you. And I’m just really glad you didn’t admit that Scott was right about hiding the gifts. No good comes from admitting these things. 🙂

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