It was an accident

Around this time of the year, we’re starting to think of Christmas presents.  Yes, it’s early days, but the stores are getting ready and so are we.

For years I’ve had my heart set on a Tiffany lamp.  

Something like this:

or this:

or this:

Unfortunately, such a lamp is never going to grace my corner table, not this year, not ever.  Not with four cats who behave like hooligans. 

During the day they’re ever so sweet, butter wouldn’t meld in their mouths.  As the sun goes down, their energy level goes up though and three out of four turn into Tony Steward, Kyle Busch and Jimmy Johnson.  For those unfamiliar with the names … they’re NASCAR racers. 

The cats, having seen one race too many, imitate the drivers by racing around the condo and in the process there’s been more than one casualty.  Lamps, ornaments, cups, vases, plates … I often wondered if my cats have Greek blood in them and they cry “Oppa” when yet another item bites the dust.

So a beautiful Tiffany lamp is out of the question.  If a new lamp comes into the house, it will have to be made out of wood or metal, or some other unbreakable material.

But speaking of damage … I caused a bit of damage myself today.

I gave Dieter a dart board for his birthday last week, and today the board was installed.  Dieter choose the back of his bedroom door to hang the board.  Shortly after the installation was complete, Dieter and I had a couple of games and oh dear,  it didn’t exactly go well.

For safety sake, the cats were put in the living room and Dieter’s bedroom door was closed.  After all, novice dart board players as we are, there was no telling where the darts would end up.

Where did the darts end up?  Well, some landed in the board, but others missed completely and landed on the floor or got stuck in the door.

Just look at the damage … see those holes? … I did that.

I guess I should stick to bowling ....