Ghost of Christmas Past

More random Christmas memories.

One year, when our older kids were just 'tweens, we had a Christmas wreath on the front door. It had a hand-painted ceramic, fluffy-bearded Santa face hanging down in the middle of it. I got home one night to find an Anne Arundel police cruiser parked out front. Diane and the kids were home, and they'd heard someone picking the lock, trying to get in. They were all quite terrified. Diane bravely went to the door, looked out the peephole and saw some activity out there. She immediately called 911 and told them that someone was trying to break into the house, and that she was taking the kids upstairs. Fortunately, the police got there in time to catch the guy right in the act. The little fluffy-bearded man was being taken away and locked up just as I arrived. And he is still locked up, in a box in the attic.


Before K.C. the Kitty Cat was hired as the Academy's mascot, in fact, before the Academy even existed, we owned two of the most ill-behaved cats in the history of cats, with the possible exception of the Smilodon fatalis that used to lock Fred Flinstone out at night. A brother and sister set of barn cats, the female would have very little to do with anyone, and the male, named Jordan, was the feline embodiment of Stanley Kowalski, minus any redeeming qualities. He would park himself at the front door and howl to go out in the wee hours. Then, after cruising the neighborhood to fight all other males and impregnate all other females, he'd schlep home with whatever diseases he'd managed to pick up, park himself under our bedroom window and howl to come in. On a good night, perhaps he'd drop a beheaded bunny or two on the front porch. Once inside, he'd knock his sister around and then howl until someone fed him. Having gorged himself, he'd lounge for a bit, then get up and start the whole business over again. It was nearly as bad as living with two colicky newborns. His howl was similar to those small dogs that people train to bark out sentences, like "I love you". Except they're not really saying anything - they're just trying to get a treat. Jordan's howl sounded eerily like a plaintive "STELLA!" I went out to go to work one morning, and found him locked in my car. Yeah, the neighbors loved him. The neighbors loved US for having him. Anyway, our Christmas tree was very close to the front door. One day, after returning from some holiday shopping, we discovered that we were unable to get into the house. The cats had knocked the tree over and somehow lodged it between the front door and the closet door in such a manner that the door simply could not be opened. I had to break in through a window. Jordan very nearly became acquainted with the Ghost of Christmas Present that year.