It was a quiet weekday evening and I was sitting alone at our dining room table beading a necklace. The only sounds echoing through the house were moral speeches and slapstick wise cracks from the characters in ‘Law & Order’. My husband was planted comfortably on the couch and the cat was, for once, relaxing contentedly in front of her prized scratching post. All was right in our world, until we were reminded of how easily the scales of peace and tranquility can be tipped over into chaos and…feline pandemonium.
I saw it happen in slow motion and can still see the episode happening over and over again as if it was being projected on to a giant movie screen inside of my skull. I had reached for a crimping tool when my elbow suddenly clipped the seed bead tray sitting right at the edge of the table. Well, because that was the most intelligent place to put it. The tray flipped violently throwing hundreds of itty-bitty-teeny-weenie beads soaring through the air and then back down towards the hardwood floors. You’re starting to understand now…hardwood floors…hundreds of tiny beads. Uh-huh. The sound of them rolling across the floors was like a rising summer squall that whooshed out of the room and blew across the living room within seconds.
Those few short seconds felt like long drawn out minutes as those colorful little beads caused quite the chain reaction. I popped open one eye as I was coming out of a full body cringe and witnessed a twelve pound ball of fur streak out of the room and after the wave of beads. I think the cat thought she had died and gone to cat toy heaven! She hopped and pranced through the rolling glass herd like a seasoned border collie would with a flock of sheep. I swear I thought I saw her smiling, but her new found joy was short lived.
When the beads finally reached the other side of the living room they pelted the wall and sprayed back in the direction they had come from…right into poor kitty’s sweet little face. Uhg! She let out a series of short spits and growls while managing to puff her tail up to expand three times the size of her body (or so it seemed anyway). She made a move for the staircase to escape the onslaught but it was too late. Between her panicked dash and the beads under her little paws, all she accomplished was to run in place and continued to get pelted. Then……..deafening silence.
I sat motionless in my chair staring out into the living room where sweet kitty had just been assaulted. There were beads still slowly rolling about aimlessly and several tufts of fur hanging in the air. I looked over at the couch and saw the look of complete and utter disbelief on my husband’s face. Neither of us had moved and neither of us were about to move. I looked down and saw my little seed bead tray laying right side up on the floor. Inside of it was one lone bead gently rolling back and forth as if it were cheering for a show well done. Then I carefully surveyed the table. It was covered in bead caddies, tools, wire, bead boards, etc., and I knew something had to give. I looked at my husband and casually said, “I think it’s time I set up a workshop.”
He never said a word, but from upstairs came a mournful wail, “Meeeeeaaaawww”
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