Destiny on a Tree

One of our family traditions growing up was to get a Christmas ornament in our stocking so that when we were old enough to have our own tree we would have sentimental ornaments to decorate it with. Every year I got an ornament symbolic of that year like a Saxophone for the year I was in the band (turns out there are some things we wished we could forget now documented in ornament form), a house for the year I bought my house, a PC ornament, you get the picture. As I was unpacking my Christmas ornaments the other night, I couldn't help but take note that my destiny seemed to be greeting me with every other ornament.

Cats...lots of cats. It seems I am a in fact truly a cat lady merely disguised with a dog. Admittedly growing up I was a cat lover. I asked Santa for a kitten for years, but my parents ever so logically explained that Santa couldn't put a kitten in his sleigh because it would jump out. It wasn't until my parents foolishly let me watch Miracle on 34th Street for the first time that the jig was up. My young logic finally trumped theirs and I made sure Santa knew it. If Santa can bring someone a house he can surely figure out a way to get a kitten here. I'm pretty sure my parents still have the note I wrote to Santa informing him of this. And thus, that very Christmas, I was greeted on Christmas morning by Callie the Calico.

You may think I'm kidding about the cat ornaments...






Look familiar? Yep, I have two of those.



Apparently ballerina cats were big.

It's as if even at such a young age I identified with Mrs. Twitty the cat lady across the street whose cats used my sandbox as a giant litter box.

As you can see one can only embrace their destiny so I put each and every cat on my tree this year...hidden...in the back where the embarrassing ornaments belong...beside the saxophone.