When you become a grown-up, it's very tempting to use your newfound money and freedom to go out and buy all the things you wanted as a kid but your parents wouldn't let you have. Breakfast cereals are a whole big category in this regard. Cocoa Krispies were one of my most favorite cereals ever, but my parents would only get them on our vacations to the beach for a week every summer. And that was only because Dad did a lot of the grocery shopping there.
So naturally, having our own place and a need to eat every morning, I went out and bought Cocoa Krispies. Certain foods you loved as a kid do not transfer well to adulthood. Ding Dongs and Hostess Cupcakes were a huge disappointment.
Several months in, and I have yet to get sick of Cocoa Krispies. Yum.
Before we had established that I didn't seem to have an allergic reaction to Pan, we kept him out of the bedroom. As a result, the bedroom was the only place he ever wanted to be, and he would stage elaborate hiding games and sprints to ensure that nobody could enter that room without him, which would then result in him immediately hiding under the bed and my grumbling and crawling and cursing and tossing him out.
Now the bedroom is not an issue. We still keep the door closed, but he can come in whenever he wants, which means that it's lost most of its glamour. He likes to stroll around and explore the closet, but it's not a big draw. What IS a big draw is my nightstand, and more specifically, the tiny crystal I have dangling from the cord of my bedside lamp.
Every night, I am woken up by the sound of Pan batting my crystal against the lamp. I am woken up by it because I specifically do not want him doing it, and I will hiss at him, spray him with the mister, or toss him onto the floor. And it will last for an hour or so, and then he will be back. I do not want him doing this because I don't want him to damage the crystal or the lamp (which I both like), and because we HAVE cat toys that he can bat around. He doesn't need mine. I could resolve this by taking the crystal down, but I like it there. It makes me happy. And I don't want to take it down because he can't behave. I want him to learn.
Fast forward to this evening when I'm talking to Tyler while he flosses his teeth, and there's a big sher-BANG from the bedroom. Lamp is on the floor, crystal is on the floor, other nightstand stuff is on the floor, and Pan is under the bed. Cat gets tossed from the room and will not be allowed back in for tonight. But jeez, cat, leave my stuff alone. I thought at this point he would have gotten his fill of the stupid dangly thing and moved on, but NO.
This article made me a lot sadder than I could predict. I guess it's because it's about something personally important to me, and I don't see a good solution. Don't worry, it's not about global warming or anything.