Tree'd...

(Pardon the cheesey photo edit - I couldn't resist.)

So I've told you all about young master Jupiter Jones and his fascination with the Christmas tree, right? You know all about this, yes? Like Didgeridoo Boy, a lot of you might have asked, "Oh, you didn't actually catch the cat in the act, so how do you know he did that? How do you know he jumped from the back of a chair into the tree and went down through all the branches?"

I'll tell you how I know. Friday, as I was just about to head out the door to leave for my first weekend of yoga teacher training, I realized the bedroom door was open. When I went to close it, who should be struggling to keep himself nestled in the branches about one tier down from the top of the tree? Why, it was precious little Jupiter Jones. I'm guessing he jumped up there from the bed.

I don't remember much about my reaction other than it was loud and smattered with the "F word". Beloved little Jupiter super-ejected/teleported out from the tree and went directly under the bed. Do I feel a little bit bad about scaring him out of not only the tree, but his wits as a bonus? Maybe. Actually, yes, I do feel a little guilty - - but just a little. Getting him out from under the bed took a little bit of doing, and he was still oh-shit goggle-eyed when I left. But, you know, we have to discipline our children and sometimes that might mean scaring the ever living bejeezus out of them. Perhaps I overdid it a little bit by marching in place so hard I shook the house before I started trying to get darling, blessed Jupiter out from under the bed, but - you know, we live in the moment, and in that moment I was *pissed*.

Adorable, sweet, blessed little Jupiter Jones (bless him) is now on a hard core mission to get into the bedroom and back into the tree. Right now, he has draped himself rather dramatically across the floor in front of the bedroom door with one paw reaching toward where it will open - if only, if only it would open. He resorted to this after a boisterous round of lamentations which even included something that sounded like a yodeling rooster might. I have to hand it to him - he's good. But he's not good enough to convince me that he needs to be near the Christmas tree.

Today I'll be putting up a small tree out of his reach in the living room, which should prove immensely entertaining for us all. He won't be able to get to this one unless he jumps down on top of it from the balcony. Should he decide to try that, the surface the tree will be perched upon won't leave him much room for a landing - something he'll be able to spot. So this *should* work. And as for presents? Behind glass, baby, behind glass. Oh, yeah.

I'll show it all off tomorrow.