The Christmas Tree...Dobby Style

A week later...

“Dobby, kitty. Aren't you done decorating the tree yet?” Mom calls from the den. For the last week Mom has been keeping to Dobby's strict guidelines and avoided the sewing room as well as part of the living room.

Dobby sits on the end of the couch closest to the Christmas tree remote control for the tv in hand, watching things Mom hates. “Crap. I forgot all about Mom.” Dobby looks over at the finished tree finding a cricket sleeping on a branch nearby. He flicks the cricket upside it's head to wake it. The cricket immediately stands at attention and starts to sing. One by one the other crickets spread out all over the tree rise and start to sing. Dobby turns off the television and puts the remote back on Mom's end of the couch. The ginger tabby quickly licks his paw to wet his fur here and there so he appears disheveled.

“Okay. Mom, you can come in now.”

Dobby turns on the CD player with the tip of his tail, “Santa Baby” starts playing. This song was my inspiration for the tree. The crickets song fades into the background and the sound of Eartha Kitt's voice fills the room. Mom sees Dobby's toys spread all over the tree. His Turbo Track is set up underneath the tree. His eye balls (balls that look like eyes –not real ones) are nestled in a compartment of an egg carton that had been cut apart making an individual nest for each “eye”. Mom takes a closer look at one of the ornaments. “Santa Clause is watching you...” Dobby points out.

Mom grins for a brief moment and says, “Well, I can see that.”

Catnip mice are hanging from the various branches from their tails. There is a long garland made of oat rings.

Dobby rubs against Mom's leg to get her attention. “There's one more thing. 'Lights' Dobby called. One at a time from the top to the bottom of the tree a small bright green and blue lights appeared.

“Aren't the electrical lights dangerous for the crickets?” Mom asked.

“Those are the crickets. They each have a cotton swab with Glo in the Dark Silly Putty on them. They have put together a show for you too, juggling and stuff but that's later.”

“How did you get the crickets to help you?” Mom asks.

Dobby sits in his pretty pose with great pride. “If you chase one down and tear it's leg off, the rest just fall into line.”

Mom pales considerably and looks at the crickets studying them. “These crickets look happy. Why are they happy?”

Dobby says, “It's the cotton swab lights. Now that they have those the crickets think they are very important performers.” Dobby holds a paw up to his face so the crickets don't see him talking. “I think it's the fumes from the Silly Putty. Enough of that. I have a surprise for you.” Dobby guides Mom further into the sewing room. His white Elvis scarves (Thank You, Thank You Very Much) are tied together to make a garland around the doorway leading into the kitchen.

“Look.” Dobby says pointing to the top of the doorway. Hanging in the center of it is a long narrow, pale colored thing.

“Is that? A flesh colored tampon?” Mom asks.

“No!” Dobby says, rolling his eyes. “It's missiletoe. A toy missile and I had TP paint it to look like a big toe. Just like the tradition says.”

“You are referring to the kissing under the mistletoe tradition?”

Dobby nods.

“Mistletoe is a particular plant. So it would be a piece of that plant or something symbolic of that greenery hanging from the doorway. But since mistletoe is poisonous to animals I think you made a wonderfully creative adjustment.” Dobby looks up at Mom adoringly.

“I'm glad you like it. This is my gift for you. A romantic kiss under the missiletoe.”

Mom pales, “Who is it that is going to kiss me?”

“Tinkletoes!” Tinkletoes appears out of the kitchen with chocolate frosting all over his mouth.

“The best part is. He's been eating chocolate, so his kiss should taste REALLY good.”

Tinkletoes stands at attention. He swallows nervously, prepared to do his duty for a friend.

Mom thinks very fast and gives him a kiss on the cheek where some chocolate is residing. Tinkle's face is covered in chocolate so it's not much of a challenge.

“That was a lovely kiss Tinkletoes. Thank you.” Mom says and gets far away from the missletoe.

Tinkletoes smiles relieved to be done and returns to his baked goods.

Dobby follows. “What's wrong Mom? Not your type?” Mom shakes her head.

“It's okay. I have plenty of time before Christmas! I'll find your type!”

“This is going to be a very long holiday season.” Mom sighs.