All Christmas long I’ve been trying to figure out why it is that I can’t seem to keep our tree stand full of water. Last night, as I sat knitting lace by the tree
(I know it looks bad. It’s lace. It will look better later.)
I heard a funny noise. A lapping noise. I peered under the tree and the mystery was solved.
The cat is drinking the tree water.
She has fresher, nicer water in her bowl and yet, she is drinking the tree water. It’s really time to take this thing down. I’ll be checking the cat’s breath later.
I’m so finished over here. The ladies are having endless fights over the bathroom and the phone. Who needs it, who’s got it, who had it last, who’s life is being ruined because they haven’t got it, who has to have it before something happens that will make them friendless and outcast. These arguments are interspersed with Joe walking around talking about how “something needs to be done” and how he should be able to use the phone/bathroom sometime soon and how maybe we should move. (I don’t know if he’s thinking that just he and I should move, or if he means we should all move together. I’m afraid to ask.
I’m going to sit under the dining room table with a bottle of wine for comfort and a tablecloth for camouflage and finish a sweater. (Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of that.) Five sleeps until school starts again.