Christmas Play dates and Randy Kitties

Ah, the play date.  It sounds so beautiful in theory.  Children playing, sharing, laughing.

That is, unless you invite Mean Jean, which is what I have been calling my sweet Genevieve of late.  

Actually, she wasn't too naughty.  Just your usual clinging, swiping toys from others and a few random smacks.  

She brings me such great pride.

My mother's dear friend Nancy hosted a lovely play date on Sunday morning before Christmas.  We really did have a great time.

Genevieve decided she wanted to play with only me at first. She was a Klingon.

Then she decided she rather fancied Holden.

He's about the most precious little fellow ever.  Sweet and non confrontational.  Just the way Bossy Britches likes 'em.  

Lindsay came with Tatum and Holden

Jessie with Miller

and

Ellie with Mimi

* let me note that Ellie gave birth 3 days later.

What a champ!

Let's recall that 3 days before I birthed Lady G I couldn't even fit shoes on my feet.

I chatted it up with Jessie, who hails from the great city of New Orleans.  

She's a southern belle, for sure.

Since I'm from Terre Haute, we have that fancy French lineage thing in common.  

At the end of the play date, the wheels had literally fallen off the wagon train of toddlers.

My mother insisted on a picture.

This was what she got.

Tres chic, which is French for our toddlers have lost their sh*t.

We returned home to a nap and shiny new gold moccasins from YaYa.

On Monday evening I hosted an evening of fun and merriment with my childhood friend, Megan.

You are all familiar with the good doctor.

Molly and G fared splendidly with one another.  

G clapped excitedly when Nolan came over with yet another battery-operated moving toy, her yapping Chihuahua.  

Molly never lost focus on the camera.

She's a pro.

The second part of my title referred to Randy Kitties.

Oh my.  We hosted a kitty convention over Christmas with my parents' cat Finn, Robeghan's cat Ziggy and our Kashmir.

We discovered that fresh Evergreen makes Finny swoon.  

That was weird.

Just when I thought things couldn't get more freaky-deaky, Kashmir decided to get acquainted with Caroline's new horse.

Then things got crazy awkward.

She fell in love with that trusty steed.

Was it the pleather bridle?

The chestnut plastic?

No one will ever know for sure.

Except Kashmir.

She took that steed by its pink reins.

And strolled into the sunset.

I hope that little tale/tail brought you as much joy as it did Kashmir.