Okay, you all know I’m kidding but I have picked the
Christmas tree up off the floor 3 times in the last week, re-hung lights,
re-hung bulbs and there are still bulbs under the couch and behind the dryer.
Those are the ones I know about. I wake
up in the middle of the night and can hear them batting the bulbs around.
Two nights ago, they broke the glass in a frame from a
picture with words that my best friend gave me when I was going through some
hard times over 25 years ago. It has a
lot of sentimental meaning. Luckily,
it’s only the glass that is damaged. It
was one out of three. Brolio is too fat to jump that high and George just wants
to sleep.
Tonight, they knocked over a lamp on the piano. Second time I have had to replace the shade
and good thing I was home since the lamp was on.
I do love the little shits (yes, I’m swearing in a blog) but
they are driving me nuts! Santa might
not fill their stockings this year.
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