A story by Ashlea Davis
They say glitter is the herpes of craft supplies. After today, I can’t think of a sentiment I agree with more than that. I have a collection of craft items, though not a regular crafter by any means. I’ve recently commenced the process of consolidating and sorting through my artsy stuff to place into one new cabinet. It’s been a project I’ve done over time, not all at once, which proved to be my downfall in the series of events I’ll lay for you ahead.
We have a cat, and by that I mean we are entirely owned by a furry, purr-snickety being who makes her own rules that change on a whim. Her most recent ridiculousness is using our back door to exit and enter our home. It’s a sticky wooden door that requires some heft to use. It’s an older house, so who knows exactly why that is. It used to scare her and now it’s her cat door. The door is directly between the old craft cabinet and the new one, so the stage was set.
Sometime, on Sunday afternoon, our beloved feline wished to exit the residence. I’m almost always napping on Sunday afternoon, fulfilling a rich family tradition. I’m not sure what my husband was doing then, but it doesn’t matter for this part of the story.
Our youngest is 8, and he was very involved in a tv show when he realized the cat wanted out, so he ran to the door. It’s a bit much for him, so he wrestled the door open and bumped into the cabinet behind him. That knocked a book over, which domino-ed into the jar of gold glitter that I hadn’t put away yet. The bottle hit the floor, and OF COURSE, the top popped off.
The cat ran out and our 8 year old quickly realized the glitter had spilled. He made a “mental note” to tell a parent when the show was over. He told exactly zero people.
This cat is in and out like we have a revolving door, so my husband opened the door for her several times. He didn’t notice the glitter but he can shoot a penny easily at 500 yards and was awarded the Coast Guard Eagle Eye award a few times for spotting people in trouble from a helicopter flying at 1000 feet. So, I’ll give him a pass. (ahem)
I noticed late that night, after everyone was in bed, that my cat was sparkly, which is unusual. She wanted to go out again so I followed her to the door. I passed the shoe area, noticing that my black boots were glittery. The area rug and door mat were gold plated. The hardwood floor shown like the streets in Heaven itself. I would’ve been emotionally moved, and I guess I was, but it wasn’t at the beauty.
After much effort, the floors are less golden, but I imagine I’ll find it for weeks to come. I explained to our youngest that the cat & his Dad’s size 12s walked through the glitter spill, many times, turning a small issue into a a very big mess. I also told him this was ultimately my fault for not finishing the craft cabinet. That’s on my immediate to-do list. Maybe, we can loosen up that door as well. I’m sure once we do, the cat will go back to her previous door of choice. Oh well. Shine on!
