Killer Crafts

Last night I enjoyed Unconditional Craft Night with my girls.  There's nothing like making ridiculous  kitsch with glue guns and sparkles, then getting praised for your work.  With a bottle of wine in front of you.  I provided the project materials this eve, and prided myself on getting the entire kit and kaboodle into a small brown paper bag.  I've used this other bag on previous Craft Nights, and was getting quite fond of toting it for these special occasions.  

Fast forward to this afternoon.  Marky and I left the apartment for a nice lunch, and before grabbing my backpack, I moved the little Stitch 'N Bitch paper bag to the corner floor of the dining room.  It'd be the first thing I'd see upon returning home, and then I'd put its contents away in their various craft stations.  We had a lovely lunch.  

And then we found the massacre.  

I opened the door and looked to my right.  Gold sequin ribbon strewn across the living room floor.  To my left, a mini hot glue gun was tossed in  a corner of the dining room.  Roger!  That rascally cat had gotten into my bag and had a party with the contents.  I guess could understand the sequin ribbon, but really?  A hot glue gun?  That seemed a little bulkier than his toys of choice.  Beaded tassels in the bathroom, and glue sticks laying helpless on the kitchen floor.  That furry jerk went berserk while we were gone.  I picked up the pieces of this craft puzzle, but couldn't find the bag anywhere.  With arms full of glitter and self-adhesive squares, ready to punish, I entered the only room I hadn't inspected.  The bedroom.  What I saw halted my rage.  I called Marky to the room.  "Oh, and we thought he had such a good time," he whimpered.  I ran to the bed.  

There was Rogey, pupils dilated, fur rumpled, breath quick.  He sat nervously on the bed, with the shredded bag, the handle around his neck.  He was fine, not even close to danger, but while we were out, he must've poked his little head through the handle, gotten stuck, and raced around the entire house trying to shake it off.  I'm glad we weren't gone longer.  We spent many minutes petting him and reassuring him that no nasty handles would ever bother him again.  Tonight let's all be glad we have opposable thumbs.