But first some background:
Today, the hubby and I went to buy a new bin for the Christmas tree-yes, it's fake-as the original box suffered from mold and it grossed me out. He wondered why a the tree that spends most of it's time in the shed outside needed its own storage box. So, I clearly explained that because we (I) did not want to drag a moldy, tattered cardboard box across several floors in our house inorder to put it up. He conceded and got the car keys for yet another trip to buy yet another bin. I admit to no storage container obcession, no matter what you may or may not have heard from my husband.
If you have cats you know what happened as soon as I got home....
We set the bin down and POOF! Cats appear out of thin air!
Maya proceeded to investigate this strange new addition to the house. I have made notations on the size of the actual box, less you forget it's big box for our 8' Christmas tree. Do I think it will be big enough? No. However, the Hubby was firm in the fact that I was not to get two ginormous bins for the tree. Also, you ask why is my couch 72" long? It's daunting I know. My couch could swallow you alive. But my 6'2" Hubby required he be able to lie down on it, ergo it's also ginormous. Moving on...
Maya still in the box, several hours later.
This story brought to you by the letter "M," and red wine. Thank you.