Jan 01 2011
We Hereby Resolve…
Christmas Roscoe
Christmas Clyde
If the kittens’ new year resolution was to drive me crazy, they’re off to a great start.
Although they know they aren’t allowed on the counter, that rarely, if ever, stops them from venturing up there. Clyde in particular likes to jump from the counter to the top of the cupboard, perching on the chest holding my grandmother’s silver while he bats at the (paper) lampshade. Another favorite spot is the top of the refrigerator, where fun can be had by tossing the box full of plastic wrap, tin foil, and other items to the floor, where they can be played with in comfort.
Today, they started things off with a bang by smashing a champagne glass*. I cleaned up the pieces, though undoubtedly I’ll be finding more weeks from now, when I least expect it. One less dish to wash!
My Brita pitcher is too tall to fit under the kitchen faucet, so I fill another pitcher with water and then pour it into the Brita. This morning, there was too much to fit in the Brita pitcher all at once, so I left the remaining water in Pitcher A and went to the bathroom. The boys seized the opportunity to jump on the forbidden counter and knock Pitcher A over, soaking counter, shelves and dishes beneath, and the floor, for good measure.
At least they didn’t knock the Brita pitcher over.
Later, while I was cleaning out the litterbox, Roscoe clawed merrily at my head from the shelf above.
He and Clyde were summarily ejected and haven’t been seen since.
I’m beginning to understand Audrey’s attitude.
While washing the dishes in the kitten-free peace and quiet, I cut my finger on a piece of broken champagne glass, embedded in the sponge.
Update: I tried Lisa’s suggestion of tin foil on the counter, but as she suspected, they are too naughty to be deterred:
It was worth a try!
*I have a theory that last year was so lousy because I didn’t welcome the new year and it got huffy with me. So this year, I had champagne and watched a couple of old movies, taking time out to see the festivities in other countries and on the east coast. Somehow, the New York celebration always seems like the “real” one to me.