Thank you for the kind words about the Contagious Joy news as well as the tips on what to do with the elf. Tuesday night Bart made snow angels in corn meal. Sydney got up this morning and when she found him on the kitchen counter (next to the Santa cookie jar) she asked me 249 questions about how I thought he got the container off the shelf and if he missed Santa since he was next to the Santa jar and if he missed snow since he was trying to make snow angels. If she is really buying this thing like she seems then I don’t know how the child sleeps at night knowing a 5 inch creepy looking doll is lurking about the house just waiting to get into her toothpaste or climb into bed beside her. *shudder* Now don’t get me wrong, the elf is fun and Syd absolutely loves it but the more I think about it, it’s just a little too Chucky for me. I’m considering letting Boo Kitty in the house to keep an eye on things just in case. Because there is one thing you can count on Boo to do and that is damage.
Wait. I don’t think I’ve told y’all about Boo? He is a tom cat that showed up at the house this summer. He was scrawny and had obviously been bitten by something large. I typically hate cats but I was disarmed by his liking me. Liking, not licking. I would have still hated him if he licked. Syd’s bff’s dad is a vet and when he was over one day he took a look and hooked me up with some antibiotics. We nursed him back to health, fattened him up, and here he has remained (the cat, not bff dad). He fights cats. He fights dogs. He fights deer. He fights diesel trucks. When he comes limping home I pour peroxide in the wounds, give him antibiotics and he lives to tear it up another day.
I told you he just showed up a stray. This past Sunday night we invited the whole church over to the house for a Christmas party. One of our friends, Jason, took a closer look at the cat and wouldn’t you know it, after asking Luke if he liked to fight (the cat, not Luke…but now that I think of it that would be so hilarious to watch. Luke fighting, not the cat) he figured out it was his! Apparently he had come over one day with the cat in the truck, it jumped out, ran off and he never could catch it. Who knows how long he had wandered before he settled here. We tried to give him back but Jason refused. We did learn his name is really Ruby (the cat, not Jason)which is strangely reminiscent of our boy cat named Nancy. It’s how we name our animals here in Alabama. Or maybe it’s just that we have no desire to do the necessary exams to determine gender. Gross.
With that said, Boo and I have an understanding. I feed him. I pet him under his sweet little cheeks while he lies on his back and waves his paws in the air. I use baby talk when I call him Boo Kitty. In exchange, he takes care of things that need taken care of. Like cats. Like dogs. Like deer. Like diesel trucks.
And like freakish little elves that don’t stay on their shelves.