So before I dive into the ridiculousness that is our current dining room setup, how about a sweet cat and craft photo first?
Okay, Fanny's actually looking rather honey badger-ish in this photo. But the pumpkin! I want to paint every pumpkin I see now. Or
gold-dip furniture legs. Or something, as long as I can continue to use this paint.
But we should probably move on to the real story, aka "Why Fanny Might Be Wearing That Bitchy Expression." See, we bought dining chairs. But
not the ones I said we were going to buy. Instead, I came across the 2nd-choice-but-originally-more-expensive nailhead chairs not only on clearance, but an additional percentage off clearance, plus I had a coupon.
(Making you proud, Mom!) So despite the fact that we originally preferred other chairs, we decided it was meant to be.
So at this point you are probably asking yourself, "Why are the chairs wrapped in plastic? I knew she was concerned about stains, but
c'mon." Props to those of you who thought my saran-wrapped dining chairs have anything to do with preventing stains, because that would be logical, however unlikely.
Here's the cold, awkward, weird truth: we are engaged in a battle of the ages over here.
Humans Vs. Cats. And I refuse to let the cats win.
The dining chair fabric is every-so-slightly textured, which it turns out is the feline temptation equivalent of me home alone with good cheese and a bottle of wine. Imagine us snuggling on our couch watching tv and all of a sudden, the worst sound new owners of dining chairs can imagine...
riiiiiiiiiiiip. Then imagine us leaping off the couch screaming at the cats, trying to gracefully run around our hulk of a coffee table in our tiny living room, and face this sort of expression (old photo, but you get the point). Mood ruined.
Kitten doesn't give a sh*t
Our first step was wishing we could employ a spray bottle, but the distance logistics don't work for immediate punishment sprays, so that's a no-go. Our second step was an anti-kitten liquid upholstery spray meant to deter cats, but it did nothing. Our third step is where we are today, trying to both deter them from the chairs and provide them with a pleasurable scratching experience elsewhere. So the full set looks like this freakshow:
(Head chairs to come... maybe red? Maybe an un-scratch-worthy material?)
And you'll see that we've also gathered every scratching implement in the house and placed them around the table, offering a wealth of scratch-worthy surfaces dusted with fresh catnip.
Neighbors and pedestrians outside our windows are puzzled
The cats don't seem to like the feel of the plastic, so that's good. But I'm pretty sure they're mostly just laughing at us. And how long am I going to put up with this saran wrap, anyway? I'm not sure. It's been a few days, and the cats have left them alone. But I have zero confidence that we've fully turned a corner. De-clawing our beloved furballs is of course out of the question, and we already clip their nails regularly. But seriously... trying to watch high-quality programming like "Revenge" while steeling myself against the sound of claws the whole time is
also out of the question. We shall see. And in the meantime...
I don't have buyer's remorse.
I don't have buyer's remorse.
I don't have buyer's remorse.
97 more recitations to go...