Two important things in this post. First, a lovely picture of our decorated tree.
Second, a bit of a story of how it came to be.
There's something you need to know about my husband: he's one of the happiest, cheeriest, level-headed people I've ever met. I could probably count on two hands the number of times I've seen him get angry or frustrated (which means a lot when you're married to a crazy lady who goes off on rants about magical trees [link]). A reasonable, rational person.
That is until he tried to set up our brand new tree last weekend.
Dan talked me into buying a new tree this year. Our old one was fine, but he thought it was too sparse. He convinced me by bringing up the fact that Sam had shocked himself last year by snapping a wire while trying to climb the tree (Remember that tidbit, previous knowledge of cats and Christmas trees).
Anyway, Target had a 50% off sale so we woke up early and got the last 7 1/2 foot prelit tree with those ridiculously realistic branches. Only $136 for Dan's ideal tree. Since we finally had the house back to ourselves after my in-laws went home, we devoted the day to all things Christmas decorations.
Not even thirty seconds after Dan had pulled the base out of the box, Rusty found his new favorite thing. While Dan worked on one side to spread out the branches, Rusty worked on the other, chewing and crunching on the tree.
Now, having had cats terrorize me my whole life, this is absolutely no surprise. And it shouldn't have surprised Dan. Yet, seeing Rusty attacking his shiny new toy got under his skin in a way I've never seen. After some yelling, some seething, and trying to pull Rusty away from the tree several times, I finally got him to take a step back and calm down. It's amazing how the stress can wash away when putting a star on top of a Christmas tree.
Fortunately, Dan and Rusty are back on good terms and hopefully it won't be as fascinating to Rusty as time goes on. Damn realistic branches...