For the first time ever, the Podunk family has a cat. Her Royal Highness adopted him as a kitten from the shelter, 2 days before she left for college — a classic HRH move. We assured Iron Chef that the cat, named Hippopotamus, would be an outside cat, protecting the house from vermin. I think it’s possible that Hippie has been outside once, and it seems unlikely that he deterred any vermin on that tentative outing. So now, not only do we have a cat, but we have a litter box inside our home.

The good news is industrial society has made some serious advances in kitty litter. When Hippie does his delicate business in our house, this business activates pleasant smelling kitty litter magic. The bad news is, the kitty litter magic scent smells very similar to my favorite face lotion. This causes internal conflict for me. Well, it did, until I threw my favorite calming face lotion in the trash. Because there is nothing at all soothing about thinking about cat dookie when you are moisturizing your face. Bad kitty.