Recently at work, a few of my coworkers were discussing their love for jigsaw puzzles. The only time I remember doing puzzles was when I was really little and my family was at the beach trying to entertain themselves during a rainy day. Therefore, I associated puzzles with horribleness since we were on vacation but had nothing to do. However, my coworkers passionate discussion piqued my interest so I asked one of them to borrow a puzzle.
I got to work on a puzzle of the "School of Athens," which I immediately renamed "Jesus and his merry men."
Was Jesus actually in the puzzle? Turns out- no (who knew?). Were the other men merry? Who's to really say? Did I have a lot of fun having a few glasses of wine and then texting my friends that I was doing a puzzle of Jesus on a Saturday night? Absolutely.
A few days into the puzzle, I realized why I had never done puzzles growing up- we always owned cats. Cats and puzzles don't mix. Sophie took pleasure in knocking pieces to the ground, laying in the box top, and her favorite- laying on the puzzle as I was working on it. While all of these were annoying, my puzzling career did not come to a skidding halt until she pulled one of her best tricks and vomited on it.
I ran over to the puzzle table and tried to clean the vomit up until I realized that puzzle pieces were cardboard, and it was not coming out of them, it was soaking into them. In between audible gags and mounds of paper towels, I got on the computer and ordered my coworker a new puzzle. So much for a new pastime.