This year we have adopted a cat, her two kittens and a puppy. They have made life, um, interesting. Especially at Christmastime. No longer can I set out the ceramic nativy scene my mom painted years ago; the floor must be checked hourly for ornaments batted down from the tree. But perhaps what have suffered most are the advent calendars.

One has small stuffed dolls representing kids around the world, which are velcroed to a fabric tree. The other is a Playmobile scene you add to every day, including trees, a park bench, a mom and her baby, squirrels and birds. The kittens work in tandem with the puppy, knocking things down so the puppy can chew them. On any given day at our house you may hear:

“The cats got to the the doll calendar! Quick — where’s the Eskimo? Oh no, save her from the puppy! Oh, too late, her velcro is gone.”

“No, you can’t just set the squirrels on the pretend ground — make sure you hide them under the park bench. And put the baby behind the tree. Oh no, the tree is down! Repeat, the tree is down! We need a bird count!”

Nothing like plastic disaster to put you in the Christmas spirit.