When mom walked in, daughter and I were sitting casually at the newly assembled table, putting together a puzzle.
Well, actually, we were diddling with the pieces. Neither of us is into puzzles. That was mom’s thing, which is why we had strewn puzzle pieces across the table.
Daughter and I got rid of that stupid Christmas tree in an hour, all neatly boxed, labeled, and stowed in the basement, dragging out the table to put in its place. “What is this?” Mom asked. “What have you done with my tree?”
“Your tree got voted off the island. Would you like to work on this puzzle?” We moved aside as Mom stepped up to the table, trying to act annoyed. But we could tell that she was pleased. She spent the next two hours happily assembling puzzle bits.*
Really, she couldn’t complain, because after all, it wasn’t like she was completely tree-less. Out of the goodness of our grinchy little hearts, and in the spirit of compromise to keep the peace, not because we’re scared of mom or anything, we left her a bit of tree, the top part, nicely planted in a pot. We even strung some lights. I can’t complain about that either, because it makes a handy night light when I have to go downstairs to pee.
But mom may get her revenge. The puzzle that we haphazardly grabbed off the shelf, rushing because we could hear mom approaching from outside, turned out to be a Christmas one, with snow and reindeer and other holiday doodoo dads.
She has threatened to hang it on the wall behind the table when it’s finished.** Where it would be the first thing we would see each and every time we came in the door. BAH HUMBUG!
*Mom is now re-assembling those same bits as I post this. That cat really can fly, but needs to work on her landings a bit more.
**the cat may continue ‘accidentally’ scattering puzzle pieces across the floor, preventing any threat of a holiday scene being finished and hung up in sight of the grinches.
Go, Kitty, Go!
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