Our first set of furniture where we’re actually concerned about it getting ruined by the cat’s claws. It’s a delicate balance between not being a totally lame superficial yuppy vs. learning to be a grown up that kind of cares about stuff because it’s also lame to pretend that you’re still a kid when you’re not. Drinking a Sunday afternoon beer or two is great for yammering.
My approach to this situation was to trim the kitty’s nails with clippers.






